


IfrJ 










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GATHERED 



FRAGMENTS 



KEY. JOHN A. CLARK 



AUTHOR OF 

l THE PASTOS'S TESTIMONY," "A WALK ABOUT ZION," "AWAKE, THOTT SLEEPEB,'' 

"TOTING DISCIPLE," AC. 




NEW YORK: 
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

No. 530 BROADWAY. 



1860. 






^ & 



<P 



hWTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by 

William Marshall & Co. 

in the Clerk's Office of the Distrct Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 

JOHN A. CLARK, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pa. 



£ h 1 1 s 



Jv 



PREFACE. 



The design of this volume will be distinctly seen by 
those who are disposed to read the introductory chap- 
ter. It is entitled Gathered Fragments, not because 
it consists of extracts, or unfinished pieces, but because 
there have been brought together in this volume a 
number of separate and independent narrative sketches. 
These sketches, as has just been intimated, have no 
necessary connexion with each other, though each one 
illustrates some great principle of Christianity, and con- 
stitutes a complete narrative by itself. 

Three or four of these sketches have been previously 
published in a less permanent form, among which are, 
" The M Ellen Family," « The Baptism," " The 
Family in Eternity" and " The Meeting of the 
Travellers" These pieces, however, as they appear 
in the present volume, have all been revised, enlarged, 
and altered. The larger part of the volume consists 
of sketches never before published. 

" The MEllen Family," " The Meeting of the 
Travellers " and one or two other narratives in this 
volume, will probably appear to some readers to wear 
somewhat of a denominational phase, though we trust 
they will appear to none to be imbued with a sectarian 
spirit. The object which the Author has proposed to 

3 



4 PREFACE. 

himself is the spiritual improvement of fallen, blighted, 
sinful mind, which meets the eye in dense masses on 
every side. He hopes that this volume may be the 
means of guiding some strayed and erring soul to the 
foot of the cross — or of inspiring some faint or falter- 
ing believer to run with increased vigour " the race set 
before him." He desires now prayerfully to commit 
this work into the hands of God, that he may bid it 
go abroad on an errand of mercy, or sleep in obscurity, 
just as he in his infinite wisdom shall see best for his 
own glory. Whatever shall be the issue, the Author 
can never fail to rejoice that the Lord God Omni- 
potent REIGNETH, YEA, AND THAT HE ORDERETH 

ALL THINGS AFTER THE COUNSEL OF HIS OWN WIIL. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

The duty of contemplating the divine operations — From these 
operations may be deduced inferences to regulate our 
moral conduct — Illustration — The divine administration in 
the natural world — All material substances perpetually tend 
to decomposition; while the constituent parts re-combine 
into new forms — Not a particle of matter has been lost 
since the creation of the world — The principle of " gather- 
ing up the fragments that nothing be lost" an essential ele- 
ment in the government of the natural world — There should 
be no waste of intellectual energy — The power of human 
intellect — The influence of holiness — The origin and design 
of this work — Two considerations — The Bible of a narra- 
tive character- — God has eminently blessed narratives of a 
work of grace in the heart — An incident — Influence of ex- 
ample — How God works in the economy of grace — The 
Holy Spirit the agent in man's conversion — The young con- 
vert that was not ashamed of Christ — Hopes cherished in 
relation to this volume 13 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Pious Mother : — Pleasing and profitable reminiscences— 
The scope of this narrative — Early history of the M' El- 
lens — Emigration to the west — Worship in a log-room — 
The mother conducting the worship of her family — The 
impressions of Robert M' Ellen — Religious exercises dis- 
closed — Reluctance in speaking to friends on personal reli- 
gion — Results of a regular performance of the liturgy 27 

CHAPTER IT. 
The Holy Supper : — Continued affliction — The sick room — 
The effort to gratify a mother's dying wish — The mission- 
ary — Qualifications for the communion — Mary M'Ellen an 
instance of early piety — The communicant's sense of un- 
worthiness — Administration of the Lord's supper to the 
1* 5 



O CONTENTS. 

Pagt 

sick — Confession of sin — A mother's emotions — An inci- 
dent — A family in the far west — A mother's last wish. ... 37 

CHAPTER III. 
A Death Scene: — The country — Elizabeth M'EUen — "What is 
implied in infant dedication — The power of trust in God — 
Blissful death 5J 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Burial: — The contemplation of death — Funeral in the 
country — The old farmer — Erroneous doctrinal view — Ef- 
fect of lay reading — The burial service — Decorums of bu- 
rial — Act of interment — Singing" at the grave — Return from 
the burial ground — Conversion of an aged sinner — Conclud- 
ing reflections 55 



THE PARALYTIC. 

CHAPTER I 
Affliction: — Wisdom of this world — The designs of Provi- 
dence — The uncertainty of the future — John Lewson — 
Early life — Residence in New York — Exposure — Attack 
of palsy — Rebellious feeling — Mercy of God — Kind friends 
— Christian solicitude — Long walk 67 

CHAPTER II. 

Divine Renewal: — Miss T 's first acquaintance with Mr. 

Lewson — Extreme poverty — The designs of God in afflic- 
tion — The workings of the Holy Spirit — Happy change . . 75 

CHAPTER III. 
Covenant Dedication : — The path of duty — Baptism — Appear- 
ance of the paralytic — Preparations for Baptism — The bap- 
tismal vow — Glorified infant — Happy family 50 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Emblems of Mercy: — Reverential views in relation to 
the holy supper — Erroneous conceptions — An answer to 
prayer — Scene in a basement story — Divine communion ... 85 

CHAPTER V. 
Result of Divine Chastening : — God leads by a way which we 
know not — Advancement in the divine life — The cholera — 
Trust in God — Concluding inference 90 



CONTENTS. 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 

CHAPTER I. -<*. 

A young Convert: — The garden — Peach tree — The brokei, 
lirnb— Emma B.—First religious impressions— Bible class- 
Peculiar trials — Spiritual enjoyment — Early religious 
experience of President Edwards — Cowper — Brainerd — 
Views of divine glory — The grand design of religion — 
Emma in her flourishing and prosperous state — Deceitful- 
ness of the human heart 95 

CHAPTER II. 

The sad Decline: — Adverse influences — Retrograde move- 
ment — Sickness — Letter from the author — The causes of 
declension — Illness 105 

CHAPTER III. 

Sanctified Sickness : — The inalienable character of God's love— 
The body killed to save the soul alive — Emma's last let- 
ter — View of the past — Self-abasement — Christ the way — 
Prayer — Thoughts of Death — Sense of sin 112 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Issue .• — Hopes in death— Pay son's contemplation of death- 
Submission — Worldly conformity — Declining health — 
Views of heaven— Paternal relation— Communion of saints- 
Interview with Emma — Retrospect — Peace in believing — 
Consumption — Repentance on a sick bed — Prayer — Ap- 
proach of death — Want of the divine Presence — Shrinking 
from death — Divine promises — Gleams of hope — The last 
moments and death of Emma — Reflections upon her reli- 
gious course 120 



THE BAPTISM. 



CHAPTER 



In extinct Parish: — Rural life — A scene of transcendent 
sublimity — Divine worship — The duty of contributing to 
•ustain new and feeble parishes— Mr. Hey den— The request. 137 



8 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER II. fag, 

The dying Parent: — Kindred sympathies — Mr. Northend's 
character — Sick room — The administration of the holy 
supper — Views of baptism 143 

CHAPTER III. 
Ths. Missionary : — A night scene— The burial ground — Rural 
seat — Narration — Infant baptism — Parental obligation — 
Family prayer — Effect of the baptismal service 149 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Change .• — Affecting reminiscences — Change of heart con- 
ducive to intellectual improvement — Religious instruction 
joined with prayer 157 

CHAPTER V. 
The unbaptized Son : — Trials in the path of every true Chris- 
tian — Bereavement — Christian resignation — The cloud — 
Early tendencies of James Northend — Parental unfaithful- 
ness the cause of the ruin of children — The dark night — 
Trust in Jesus — A mother's bitterness in death — The solemn 
interview— Fraudulent transaction— The gale— Shipwreck- 
Awful catastrophe — Submission 162 



LITTLE ANN. 
CHAPTER I. 

Early religious Instruction : — The Sunday-school teacher's 
work — His crown — Need of faith and prayer — Ann Wen- 
man — Solemn appeal — Impression made upon her mind. . . 173 

CHAPTER II. 
The fatal Disaster: — Abode of poverty — Ann's clothes on 
fire — Her first wish — Interview with her Sunday-school 
teacher, and her pastor 179 

CHAPTER III. 

Evidences of a Work of Grace .- — Socrates and Christ — Office 
of Christ — of the Holy Spirit — Preparation for death — 
Peaceful close— Funeral— "Beatific state— Goodness of God— 
The best wish for our children 185 



CONTENTS. 8 

THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 

CHAPTER I. p^ 

A Journey : — Opportunities of improvement — Incidents of a 
single day — Thunder storm — Lovely prospect — Country 
school-house — Glorified little ones — Incidents — Company 
at an inn 195 

CHAPTER II. 

The Inundation : — Preparation for death — Beman Hollow — 
Devastation — Touching- facts — Fearful catastrophe — 
Prayer Book — A surprising discovery 202 

CHAPTER III. 

T%e Force of Prejudice : — Christian union—The effect of a spirit 
of bitterness — Impressions on the minds of the young — 
Emigration — New residence — Episcopal church — The oc- 
currence of a Sunday morning — Impressions made by the 
use of the church service — Great salvation — Prayer meet- 
ing — The liturgy — Mutual surprise — Religious prejudice — 
The Prayer Book — Salvation in and through Christ — The 
indefatigable missionary — The pond — The ark — Religious 
impressions on Mr. Truman's mind — Change of heart fully 
recognised in the liturgy — Baptismal regeneration — Read 
ing the service — The ground of attachment to the Episcopal 
church — Hope desired in death 209 

CHAPTER IV. 

Mrs. Janeway .• — Absorbing topic of conversation — Piety a 
steady and uniform principle — The walnut grove — The 
quarterly meeting — The judgment — Distress of mind — The 
prayer meeting — Excitement of imagination — Danger of 
pride — Spiritual declension — The zealous efforts of the 
Methodists — Uncharitable judgment — Young Truman — A 
mother's anxiety for a sick child — The backslider — Mrs. 
Maison — The power of sympathy chastened and directed 
by true piety — Christian counsel — Nature of Christian 
faith — The object of our visit to the sanctuary — Spiritual 
worship — The excellencies of the liturgy 230 

CHAPTER V. 

Mr. Colchester: — Sympathetic influence — Mr. Colchester's 
Teligious history — Country inn — An incident X&A 



10 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. ftw 

The Manuscript : — Early life of a reformed profligate — Habits 
of deceit — Dissolute habits — Desperate resolve — Dark self- 
communing — Suicide arrested in his purpose — Mental 
anguish — A copy of the Prayer Book — The rude cabin — 
Solitary life — Instruction and comfort derived from the lit- 
urgy — Will of Providence 25S 

CHAPTER VII 

Tne Sequel: — Bar-room conversation— Religious impression- 
Services of a village church — Aged minister — Abstract 
of a sermon — Affecting appeal — Convictions of sin — Self- 
communion — Means of grace 271 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Providential Developement .- — The tour — Accident — Escape — 
Country scene — Domestic arrangements — Family prayer — 
Gentle rebuke — Penitence— Singular disclosure — A funeral 
scene 278 



MARY MAYWOOD. 

CHAPTER I. 

Domestic Relations: — The wisdom and benignity of the gos- 
pel — Influence of a single domestic — An irascible man — 
Triumph of Christian patience — Conscientious views 287 

CHAPTER II. 

How Mary was brought to Christ : — Interview — Early habits — 
Rash determination — Effect of kindness — First serious 
■ mpressions — The Bible our best friend — Workings of an 
awakened but unregenerate soul — The way of salvation — 
Influence of divine grace 294 

CHAPTER III. 

The moral Influence 'f a Christian Temper : — A worldling's 
new of Christianity — Character developed — Reparation — 
Change in Mr. Wilson — The true interest of servants 302 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Christian's End: — Mary's last sickness — Ride into the 
country — The power of the Bible — Advantages of true 
piety — Closing scene — Concluding reflection 307 



CONTENTS. 1 1 

A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 

CHAPTER I. 

Par 
The Village Burial Ground : — The change which time pro- 
duces — Reflections in a grave yard — The grave of an apo- 
thecary — Of a beautiful female — Of a trifler — The Lindsley 
family 313 

CHAPTER IT. 

Mr. Lindsley' s Family: — An afflictive event sanctified — Bap- 
tism — Mrs. Lindsley — Mary Anna — Joy and peace in be- 
lieving 320 

CHAPTER III. 

Profession of Religion: — Covenant relation — Indecision — Pre- 
paratory step to baptism — Christ all our strength — Conflict 
of feeling 326 

CHAPTER IV. 

Fatal Dereliction : — Sad decline — Intemperance — Infidelity — 
Profligate husband — Unkind treatment — Danger of impeni- 
tence 332 

CHAPTER V. 

The Infidel on his Death-bed .• — Source of infidelity — Resources 
of an infidel in sickness — Remorse — Faithful exhortation — 
Enmity of the natural heart—An aged minister— Interview- 
Probing questions — Confession of an infidel — Reconci- 
liation 337 

CHAPTER VI. 

Darkness in Death: — The parted family re-united — Infidel 
club — Soliloquy — Bitter recollections — Fearful forebctdings. 347 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Christian's Support in Death : — Decline and death of Mrs. 
Lindsley — Early history of Richard — Calm and tranquil 
contemplation of death — The eloquence of Christian hope — 
The effect of a Christian's dying words — Reflections of 
an orphan daughter — God the father of the fatherless — 
Sudden death 351 



12 CONTENTS. 

ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 

CHAPTER I. 

Discourse by the Way: — A jaunt with a clerical friend — A 
country scene in autumn — Power of association — A lovely 
village — -Mutability of all earthly things — Early years of 
Rev. Mr. H . — High ministeria 1 oWicter 358 

CHAPTER II. 

The Doctrines of Grace: — Conceptions of heavenly bliss- 
Christ and him crucified — First field of labour — Early mode 
of preaching — Powerless effect — Causes that retard and 
depress the Episcopal church-Grand deficiency discovered — 
Interview at a public inn — Views of a revival — Extraor- 
dinary effusion of the Holy Spirit — The Pentecostal bless- 
ing — Keen rebuke — Divine influence — The doctrine of spe- 
cial grace, taught in the Prayer Book — Dependence on the 
Holy Spirit in preaching 367 

CHAPTER III. 

The Effect of preaching Christ: — The adaptedness, simplicity, 
and power of the gospel — A rich and worldly-minded wo- 
man — Doctrines of the cross — God humbles us before he 
employs us for his glory — The veil of self-deception torn 
off — Testimony of a plain Christian man — Rev. Mr. Ber- 
ridge — Effect of faithful preaching 383 

CHAPTER IV. 

Profitable Discussions: — Moonlight scene — Sacred ministry 
approached from improper motives — Reasons why some 
ministers do not find fields of labour — Christ the corner- 
stone — Discriminative preaching — How souls are won — 
Parochial visiting — No insuperable obstacles in the way 
of the performance of this duty — An illustration — Duty 
belongs to us, consequences must be left with God — The 
ambassador — Testimony against an unfaithful minister — 
Preparation for parochial visiting — Results attending the 
faithful performance of this duty — Conclusion 394 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

It is delightful to gather the lessons of moral duty from 
the silent, but expressive operations of the Divine Being. 
It is recorded in more than one instance in the sacred 
volume, as the marked and peculiar sin of intelligent and 
rational creatures, that they regard not the ivork of the 
Lord, neither consider the operation of his hands * This 
contemplation of the divine conduct, which is thus taught 
to be the duty of every human creature, is to extend, not 
only to the moral acts of God, but to his operations in the 
natural world. In this remark we refer not so much to 
those traces of divine workmanship, and those indications 
of divine power which are seen alike in the painted pebble 
and the delicately pencilled flower, in the tremendous vol- 
cano and the quiet corn-field, " in the wild winter storm 
and in the soft summer moonlight," as to those fixed and 
general principles of divine operation that extend through 
a whole system. 

The idea intended to be communicated is this — that it 
is our duty to consider not only how Jehovah governs men 
and angels, how he treats the sinning and the unsinning ; 
but how he governs the material universe — what appears 
to be the principle of divine administration in the natural 
government of matter and of mind. By such contempla- 
tion, we can often deduce inferences of high moral bearing, 
in relation to the regulation of human conduct. This idea 
I will endeavour to illustrate. 

• Isa. v. 12. Ps. xxviii. 5. Job xxxiv. 26, 27. 

2 13 



14 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The divine administration. 



The globe on which we live, with all its varied furniture 
and appendages, with all its multiplied forms of organic 
and animated being, and with all its complex arrangements 
for the support of animal life, is, as a physical or material 
system, under the government of God. Every particle of 
matter is under his immediate and absolute control. There 
can be no such thing as chance within the sphere of such 
an administration. The heavenly minded Cowper has 
truly remarked — 

Could chance 

Find place in his dominion, or dispose 
One lawless particle to thwart his plan, 
Then God might be surprised, and unforeseen 
Contingence might alarm him, and disturb 
The smooth and equal course of his affairs. 

All the changes that occur take place according to fixed 
principles of divine administration. One of those principles 
is, that in this mundane system nothing shall be lost or 
struck out of being. Not a single particle of matter that 
existed at the original creation of this earth is now missing. 
Every atom, that is not at present in use, is carefully pre- 
served in the great laboratory of nature, and is destined to 
enter into new aggregations or organized forms. 

It is undoubtedly true, that every thing around us is the 
subject of constant mutation. " Matter under every visible 
form and modification, when regarded in its general mass, 
is perpetually changing ; alternately living, dying, and 
reviving; decomposing into elements that elude our pur- 
suit ; and recombining into new shapes, and energies, and 
modes of existence. The purest and most compact metals 
become tarnished, or converted into a calx or oxyde on its 
surface, and the most durable and crystallized rocks crumble 
into granules ; and the matter constituting these oxydes 
and granules, by an additional series of operations, is still 
farther decomposed, till every vestige of their late character 
is lost, and the elementary principles of which they con- 
t>Ved are appropriated to other purposes, and spring to view 
ander other forms and faculties. The same process takes 



NTRODtJCTORY CHAPTER. 15 

Nothing in nature lost. 

place in the organized world. The germ becomes a seed, 
the seed a sapling, the sapling a tree ; the embryo becomes 
an infant, the infant a youth, the youth a man ; and having 
thus ascended the scale of maturity, both, in like manner, 
begin the downward path to decay ; and so far as relates 
to the visible materials of which they consist, both at 
length moulder into one common elementary mass, and fur- 
nish fresh fuel for fresh generations of animal or vegetable 
existence ; so that all is in motion, all is striving to burst 
the bonds of its present state ; not an atom is idle ; and the 
frugal economy of nature makes one set of materials 
answer the purposes of many, and moulds it into every 
diversified figure of being, and beauty, and happiness."* 

Thus we see, that while decomposition is continually 
going on in the material world around us, and that there is a 
ceaseless tendency in all bodies to be resolved into their 
original elementary principles, yet the moment this process 
arrives at a certain point, dissolution is arrested, and the 
elementary principles of these bodies are held safe in the 
great laboratory of nature, till they are needed, and taken 
up in some new combinations. And hence we learn, that 
the entire principle of gathering tip the fragments, that 
nothing may be lost, enters as an essential element into 
the divine administration, as it respects the physical world 
around us. And this will appear the more striking and 
remarkable when we consider the fact, that this course of 
divine procedure is not attributable to any difficulty that 
stands in the way of calling new matter into existence. 
The Divine Being could, with a single volition, call into 
existence, an amount of matter not only adequate to every 
exigence, but a mass equal to that which now constitutes 
the whole extended immense material universe. And yet 
He uses matter with such frugality that not a particle has 
been lost since the creation of the world. Is not this fact 
worthy of contemplation ? Does it not read a lesson of 
moral instruction to every human creature ? The words pf 

• Good's Book of Nature, vol. i. p. 19. 



16 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

There should be no waste of intellectual energy. 

the divine Jesus, as he stood amid the fed thousands, tnat 
sat on the verdant grass, in a field near Bethsaida, gather 

UP THE FRAGMENTS THAT REMAIN, THAT NOTHING BE LOST, 

were but a moral exposition or beautiful comment upon 
one of the great laws of nature. And I would here add, 
that if the divine conduct be placed before us for our imita- 
tion, if we regard it as obligatory upon us to copy the 
divine example, as far as it is imitable, then shall we not 
be brought to the conclusion, that it is the bounden duty 
of every moral and intelligent being to strive to be engaged 
in labours that in their results will be endlessly useful ? 

The practical inference to be deduced from the fact 
which Ave have been contemplating is, that every human 
creature is bound not only to use all the objects of external 
possession, in such a way that nothing will be lost, but so 
to consecrate all the powers and faculties of his mind to 
the cause of truth and holiness that, during the whole 
period of his earthly existence, there shall be no waste of 
intellectual energy. This is undoubtedly the will of God. 
But alas ! how wide from this have earth's inhabitants 
usually acted ! One judiciously remarks, — " The experi- 
ment has never yet been fairly made, to see how much 
pure and ever-burning piety might accomplish, in calling 
forth the active powers of man. What mighty energies 
ambition and sin might summon into being, has been 
exemplified ; and, unhappily, when we wish to gauge the 
powers of man, we are compelled to resort to some such 
melancholy exemplifications. History is little else thae 
the record of such disastrous achievements ; in contemplat- 
ing which, we stand almost equally amazed at the exhibi 
tion of gigantic intellect and fiendish malignity. Alexan 
der, Caesar, and Napoleon have amazed the world witl? 
their daring exploits, and by the mighty powers which they 
exhibited in the service of ambition ; Nero, Caesar, Borgia. 
Richard III. have shown to what prodigious efforts ui> 
mingled sin may summon the human powers ; and D'Alem- 
bert, Diderot, and Voltaire have evinced to what almost 
supernatural feats of intellectual strength the mind may b« 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 17 



The power of human intellect. 



summoned, in a united effort to corrupt a nation, and 
dethrone religion from the hearts of men. Here, talent 
has been controlled by sin ; ambition or crime directs all 
the powers on a single object, and the world trembles 
before the amazing intellect of fallen man. 

" But when we contemplate the influence of holiness 
upon the human mind, we see it in broken, irregular, and 
disjointed efforts. Among men, merely, we cannot point 
to a single instance, where the powers have been as entirely 
controlled and called forth by holy efforts, as they have 
been under the control of ambition or infidelity. A few, 
indeed, have approximated to it ; and we refer to them as 
rare exceptions to the common laws of holiness over men. 
The energies of Paul were brought into action under the 
influence of piety ; and Baxter and Edwards seemed dis- 
posed to make trial of what that mind could do, under the 
operation of Christianity : and Howard is said to have pur- 
sued his object with an intensity which the nature of the 
human mind forbade to be greater. But why do we refer 
to these instances, as standing, like far distant lights in the 
darkness of the past ? It is because the power of holiness 
has not been applied to the mass of the Christian world. 

" There are two melancholy facts which stand forth in 
the past history of the world. One is, that talent which 
might have made itself felt in shaping the destiny of men, 
has slumbered and been lost. At any single period of the 
world, there has been talent enough for all its great, pur- 
poses of improvement. Who can believe that Luther was 
the only man who dwelt in a cloister, endowed with native 
powers to effect a revolution in nations ? AVho can believe 
that there is not power enough in the church to carry the 
gospel to all the world ? The other fact is, that genius is 
often wasted, or burns and blazes for naught. Now, splen- 
did talent is called forth by some daring scheme of ambition. 
Smitten and foiled in its designs, it shrinks back on itself, 
and withers, and is lost to the world. Now, it is excited 
by some wild Utopian plan for the philosophic improvement 
of men. Life is exhausted in the scheme, and the misdi- 

2* 




18 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The influence of hDliness. 

rected talent falls useless to the dust. Now, splendid 
genius seems to be drawn out simply by the love of intel 
lectual exercise — by the mere fondness of its play ; and a 
useless poem or novel is all the memorial which is left to 
tell, that the man once lived. And yet again, talent, just 
adapted to all the hardy enterprises of making the race 
better, expends itself in some wild and devious plan of 
wandering, like that of Ledyard ; or in exploring the me- 
morial of ancient folly, like that of Belzoni. 

'* Now, the same mighty energies of mind, which are 
summoned into action by ambition, the love of gold, and 
of sin ; or the very energy, that seeks employment adapted 
to its nature, in traversing continents, ascending streams, 
and penetrating frozen seas, might be called forth by the 
same principle which moved the minds of Paul, and Bucha- 
nan, and Martyn. Nay, higher powers of mind might be 
developed by an inextinguishable desire to be holy, and to 
save the world, than the love of gold or fame has ever 
yet excited. If a man wished to make the most of his 
talents, to put them to the severest and most enduring test, 
to labour simply to extend and prolong his influence, he 
would tread the path of Paul and Howard. The influence 
of the Caesars of the world must die."* The influence of 
Paul and Howard can never die. The results of their toils 
will exist throughout the ages of millennial glory, will 
endure to the end of all things — yea, will last as long as 
the wasteless ages of eternity. 

When the mind is led into a train of thought like this, — 
and, when viewing the tremendous responsibility that rests 
upon us, as redeemed and divinely enlightened beings, we 
see, in looking back upon the past, how little we have evei 
accomplished for the cause of truth and holiness, — how 
much of our time has been frittered away, and can never 
be recalled, — how much of our strength has been wasted 
for which we have now nothing to show, — who that loves 
the Saviour, and realizes that he must soon stand at the 

* Christian Spectator, vol. vi. pp. 552 — 554. 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 19 



The origin and design cf this work. 



judgment bar, will not feel an irrepressible desire, uoi 
only to consecrate all his future labours to the glory of 
God, and to the promotion of truth and holiness, but will 
not look around with deep solicitude, and see if some of 
the results of his past efforts may not be gathered up and 
devoted to the same cause ? 

It was a feeling not unlike this that first suggested to the 
author the idea of the present volume. He believes that 
every Christian minister is bound, by the most solemn obli- 
gations, to consecrate his time, and talents, and influence 
to the cause of the great Redeemer, and to seek to bring 
mind in contact with divine truth, by every means in his 
power, whether by the pulpit or the press. 

With the solemn conviction resting upon his mind, that 
the time is short, — that as yet, little has been (3"ne, and 
that it is in accordance with the divine will that nothing 
should be lost, — he has ventured to bring together the frag- 
ments that compose this volume, and lay them as a free- 
will offering on the altar of God, asking him, who not un- 
frequently " chooses the weak things of the world, to 
confound the things that are mighty, and base things, 
and things which are despised," to accomplish his great 
and glorious purposes, to bless this effort, and make it 
tributary to his glory. 

The only object which the author has proposed to him- 
self in this volume, is the everlasting good of undying 
souls. The thought frequently presses upon him, that he 
is floating down the rapid current of time, in company with 
nearly nine hundred millions of immortal beings, — that he 
and they will soon be in the ocean of eternity, — that only a 
very small number, a mere fraction of these millions, have 
yet laid hold on eternal life, — and that now is the only time 
in which they can be reached or rescued. As this thought 
has come up before him again and again, he has been 
driven back to the conclusion, * Wo is me, if I do not seek, 
by every means in my power, tc bring the truth of God in 
contact with undying minds.' 



20 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The Bible of a narrative character. 



The author has been encouraged to hope that the present 
volume may exert a salutary influence from two considera- 
tions. 

The first is, that the method here pursued in the inculca- 
tion of truth, has for its model and sanction the record of 
divine truth. A large portion of the Bible is of a narrative 
character. A large proportion of the materials that make 
up that volume consists of a history of God's people, and 
of his various dealings with them. There is no doubt that 
the truth contained in the sacred volume, from this very 
circumstance, has produced infinitely more effect, than it 
would have done had the same truth been communicated 
in a more didactic or philosophic manner. Facts have 
been remembered, and have made an impression, where 
abstract principles would never have reached the mind, nor 
left a single lodgement of truth in the heart. 

The other consideration adverted to is this — that God 
has blessed, in an eminent manner, true narratives of a work 
of grace in the heart. It seems to be a manifest principle 
in the economy of grace, that every display of divine 
power put forth in the conversion and sanctification of sin- 
ners shall have a moral influence upon those who witness 
it or hear of it. How often has an extended revival taken 
its rise from one striking case of conversion in a congrega- 
tion ! How many minds have been awakened, comforted, 
and refreshed, by reading what God has done for others ! 
God certainly has a purpose in all this. An inspired apostle 
could say, " Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, 
that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long- 
suffering, for a pattern to them which should hereafter 
believe on him to life everlasting." 

In illustration of the idea just expressed, that in the 
economy of grace, God designs that every display of divine 
power manifested in the conversion and sanctification of 
sinners, shall exert a moral influence upon other minds, I 
will state the following incident. 

Many years since, there lived in a sweet and beautiful 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 21 

An incident. 

town in New England, a zealous and devoted clergyman 
whose labours were remarkably blessed. The words spoken 
by him seemed " like fire, or as the hammer to the rock." 
The young, in whole companies, left the scenes of gayety, 
and gathered around the cross of Christ. Many an aged 
sinner, who had been slumbering for years in unregeneracy, 
was aroused from the deep sleep of spiritual death, and led 
to cry out — Lord, save, or I perish ! 

There was one individual, however, whom his preach- 
ing did not in the least affect. Though this herald of the 
cross lifted up his voice like a trumpet, and spared not, 
though he proclaimed the whole counsel of God, and 
brought the solemn truths of religion before his hearers 
with a power almost sufficient to wake up the dead, Mr. 

A sat as unmoved and unconcerned as though he 

had letters patent from Jehovah, assuring him that his 
name was written in the book of life. He did not profess 
to be a religious man. He was, however, irreproachable 
in his moral conduct, and often declared that he had a great 

respect for religion. But, in truth, Mr. A was very far 

from being a believer. He had no just conception of the 
spirituality of the gospel, and was rather disposed to sneer 
at the idea of an inward work of grace in the heart. 

When, therefore, he saw one and another of his acquaint- 
ance under the influence of this faithful ministry coming 
forward to enlist under the banner of Christ, he said to 
himself, " This is all hypocrisy or delusion." The holy 
spectacle of awakened sinners coming forward to give 
themselves up to the Lord Jesus Christ, in the bonds of 
the everlasting covenant, he could not behold but with feel- 
ings of contempt. He was cherishing, in all its unsubdued 
power, that " carnal mind which is enmity against God." 
Still he nattered himself that he was a very good man. 
He continued to attend upon the services of the sanctuary. 
One afternoon, to his great surprise, he saw Mr. J. J. rise 
up, and go forward to the baptismal font. This individual 
was a person of great influence in that community. He 



22 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Influence of example. 



was known to be a man of calm, and cool, and deliberate 
judgment. He had on several occasions shown himself 

the particular friend of Mr. A . And now he stood 

before an assembled congregation, to enter into covenant 
with God — to enlist under the banner of Christ — to be 
signed with the sign of the cross — and to give himself up 
unreservedly to the service of that Redeemer, who had 
bought him with his blood. There, as he stood at the foot 
of the cross, there went forth a silent and powerful testi- 
mony in favour of religion. His own heart was touched 
with deep feeling. The big tear rolled down his cheek, as, 
with half choked utterance, he solemnly took upon him 

the vows of the covenant. Mr. A- looked at this sight 

with amazement. 

He said to himself, — 

" I know this man. He has too much integrity to play 
the part of a hypocrite. His feelings are too equable, 
and his mind too well balanced, to be brought under a 
fanatical influence. What does this mean ?" 

Mr. A went home, but the scene he had witnessed 

followed him there. He began to feel a sort of indignation 
towards Mr. J. J. that he had suffered himself to be influ- 
enced to take this step. Upon a second thought he knew 
that Mr. J. J. was not the man to be influenced by others. 
The more he reasoned upon this subject, the more per- 
plexed and dissatisfied he felt. A ray of the Spirit's 
light soon broke in upon his soul. He began to see that 
his own mind was dark. He began to suspect that all was 
not right within. He went into a room by himself, and 
tried to pray ; but found he could not. He then took down 
the Bible, and tried to read it ; but he could not. He felt as 
though there was an influence upon him, hurrying him on 
to commit some dreadful deed. While he was there alone 
with himself and God, the broad blaze of divine truth 
flashed upon his view, and revealed to him the cause of 
his misery. He saw it now, as with the clearness of noon* 
day, that he was, to use his own words, " an accursed 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 23 

How God works in the economy of grace. 



sinner before God." He lay all that night in agony. 
For days he went bowed down with distress, seeking 
rest and finding none. At length a ray of comfort dawned 
upon his darkened soul. He became a converted man, 
and took the same stand that Mr. J. J. had done, in testi- 
fying his allegiance to Christ. 

Here we see that the silent witnessing of a work of 
grace accomplished what the most powerful preaching 
could not. And this is not all. Mr. A— — , having been 
brought to feel the power of inward religion, and to know 
in some degree the preciousness of Christ, felt deeply 
anxious to extend the blessing to others. Among the 
efforts that he put forth to accomplish this object, was the 
instruction of a class of coloured adults. The Lord blessed 
his labours. One of the class became decidedly changed. 
She resided in a very gay and thoughtless family. Her 
altered conduct and consistent Christian deportment arrested 
the attention of a young lady, an inmate of the family, who 
before this had been one of the most thoughtless among 
the pleasure-taking tribe. But now her gayety was all 
gone. Daily did she bow before the mercy-seat, pleading 
for the transforming power of divine grace. Her prayer 
was heard. She became a devoted Christian. She said 
nothing to the family in which she resided, but her silent 
example pleaded most eloquently. The heads of that 
family became impressed. They resolved to seek the Lord 
— they were soon able to bear testimony, that he had not 
said, " Seek ye my face in vain."'' That family became 
enrolled with " the sacramental host of God's elect," and 
were among the most active and zealous to promote the 
glory of God and the salvation of sinners. 

Now let us look back, and see how God works. The 
truth which awakened Mr. J. J. was heard by all these 
individuals, but it did not move one of their hearts, except 
his. And yet when it came to be known that he was a 
trophy of God's converting power, when he stood before 
the world to confess Christ, the fact planted an arrow of 



24 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

1 he Holy Spirit the agent in man's conversion. 

conviction in the flinty bosom of Mr. A . This 

resulted in his conversion. In carrying out the principles 
of the gospel into action, Mr. A became the instru- 
ment of bringing salvation to an African woman. The 
change wrought in her arrested one of the daughters of 
gayety in her career of folly, and led her to consecrate 
herself to Christ. And this happy change spoke forth 
such a volume of argument, in the midst of a gay family, 
that all that family were brought under the abiding power 
of godliness. This was not the result of accident. It 
furnishes a specimen of the mode in which the great pur- 
poses of grace are carried on. It is in this way that God 
makes every thing he does in the kingdom of grace, tribu- 
tary to the accomplishment of other and future achievements 
of mercy. Hence we see the striking analogy there exists 
between the economy of nature and of grace, especially in 
this great principle of gathering up the fragments, that 
nothing be lost. While it is a well attested fact, that " The 
Dairyman's Daughter," " The Young Cottager," and 
works of this stamp, have been instrumental in bringing 
more souls to Christ, than the most elaborate treatises and 
powerful argumentation on the truth and doctrines of Chris- 
tianity ; it is also true that those narratives do not derive 
their principal moral power from any enchantment thrown 
around them by the hand of Legh Richmond, but from the 
simple fact, that they unfold in a plain and perspicuous 
manner the workings of divine grace upon the soul. 

It will not be inferred from the preceding train of re- 
marks, that the idea is cherished, that a single instance of 
conversion ever occurred without the direct agency of the 
Holy Spirit. Neither must the inference be deduced, that 
we suppose that any soul was ever " brought from dark- 
ness to light," independently of the instrumentality of 
truth. We believe that the Spirit operates in all cases, in 
quickening the dead soul into life, by means of the truth. 
The character of God, the obligations of his law, and the 
means of rescue, must be before the mind. But the truth 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 25 



The young convert that was not ashamed of Christ. 



may be before the mind without being efficacious, and the 
very means which the Holy Spirit will employ to give it 
efficacy, may be the witnessing or the contemplation of 
14 what God hath wrought" 

An intelligent, but reckless young* man, in the circle of 
my acquaintance, some few years since, became a decided 
Christian. A short time after this change occurred, one of 
his former gay companions, with whom he had spent many 
a night of dissipation, met him, and jocosely remarked, 

" Well, Mat D , they tell me you have turned Chris- 
tian — how is it V 

M — replied, with undisturbed tranquillity and solemn 
emphasis, "I hope that through the mercy of God I have 
been brought to a knowledge of the truth." 

" Tell me," responded his friend, in rather a sneering 
tone, " what this means. Why have you been acting so 
ridiculously ?" 

" Come to my house to-morrow at such an hour," he 
replied, " and I will tell you." 

This was agreed upon, and at the appointed hour the 
young man called. M — received him with his usual affec- 
tionate manner, but the moment they were by themselves, 
fixing his eyes upon him, with bursting emotion, he said — 

" My dear sir, I believe all the change that is wrought 
in me has been effected by the power of God. Now, be- 
fore I attempt to tell you what he has done for me, I wish 
you to allow me to kneel down, and pray that he may 
change your heart." This proposition was so unexpected, 
that had a thunderbolt fallen at that young man's feet at that 
moment he could not have been more astonished. Ha 
started back as though amazed, and made no reply. 

M — however showed him that he was acting upon 
solemn convictions of duty, for he immediately fell upon 
his knees, and poured out such a fervent strain of suppli- 
cation, that when he rose, this young scoffer's eyes were 
filled with tears. From that moment he became thought- 
ful, and in a few months he stood enrolled with the pro- 



26 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Hopes cherished in relation to this volume. 

fessed people of God. He has ever since maintained a 
consistent character for piety. In adverting to his first 
serious impressions, he has often mentioned the above inci- 
dent, accompanying it with the remark, 

" When I heard Mat D pray, I felt that there was a 

divine reality in religion." 

I Now the Holy Spirit was the grand agent in this woik 
— the truth, which had long been before that impenitent 
mind, was the instrument that brought conviction to the 
soul, but the proximate cause which the Spirit employed, 
to give divine efficacy to the truth, was, the manifestation 
of God's transforming grace in the case of M — . 

The hope is cherished, that the pieces which compose 
this volume, founded, as they are, upon incidents gathered 
from real life, will not be without some use. 

So far as they are illustrative of the great principles of 
the gospel — of the power of transforming grace — of the 
influence of godliness in sustaining the believer under 
trials and conflicts — of the joys that are experienced by the 
renewed soul — and of the sweet aspirations of faith and 
hope, under the bright beamings of God's glorious and 
reconciled countenance, the tendency of these pieces, it is 
believed, will be to commend the gospel, to endear to the 
reader the cross of Christ, and constrain him to feel, with 
increasing conviction, the importance of practical and heart- 
felt religion. If the exhibitions of truth contained in this 
volume shall either remotely or directly contribute to the 
rescue of one undying spirit from the iron fetters of 
sin, and ihr pangs of the second death, there will be a wit- 
ness at the right hand of God to attest through all eternity, 
that the leisure moments were not spent in vain, that were 
devoted to this volume of gathered fragments. Reader, 
if thy name is not in the book of life — if thou hast not yet 
submitted thy heart to God, may these pages prevail upon 
thee to be that witness, and to take thy stand among the 
blood-washed throng that surround the throne of God and 
the Lamb. 



THE 



M'ELLEN FAMILY 



CHAPTER I. 

THE PIOUS MOTHER. 

" These I distinctly hold in memory still. 
Nor strange, that recollection there should dwell, 
Where first I preach'd the reconciling word. 

Pollok. 

There are some passages written down upon the page 
of memory that we love to read again and again. It is 
not impossible that even in heaven we may retain this feel- 
ing ; and that our devotions even there may be enlivened 
by the reminiscences of earth. It is quite within the range 
of possibility, that even in the eternal world, and amid the 
bright fields of celestial glory, the recollections of time 
will wake the harps of the redeemed to louder notes of 
praise. In reference to one event, we know it will be so. 
That event constitutes the burden of the new song, which 
will be for ever sung, and for ever new. " Thou art worthy 
to take the book, and open the seals thereof; for thou wast 
slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out 
of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; 
and hast made us unto our God kings and priests." 
Certainly, during our earthly pilgrimage, it is profitable 
to recall and meditate upon some scenes and events that 
are past — scenes and events which are calculated to lift up 
the soul in loftier adoration to God — to render more pre* 

27 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The scope of this narrative. 



cious, and endeared to our hearts the glorious Saviour, and 
to urge us onward with a livelier zeal, and a holier earnest- 
ness, in " the race set before us." 

The following sketch, it is hoped, will partake in some 
degree of this character. The facts here recorded tend 
incidentally to illustrate the advantages of one of the 
arrangements connected with a branch of the Christian 
church. They, however, have a higher bearing than this. 
They show the value of family religion, evince the power 
of a well-founded hope in Christ, and are so many new 
attestations to the truth of God's promises. It is therefore 
the sincere and ardent prayer of the writer, that this little 
narrative may not only hold up to the view of all Chris- 
tians the spirituality and excellency of the liturgy of the 
church which he loves, but may contribute in some small 
degree to advance the great interests of the Redeemer's 
kingdom, and hasten on that happy period, when "the 
mountain of the LoroVs house shall be established in the 
top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills ; 
and all nations shall flow unto it." 

It was during the summer of 1826, in the lovely month 
of June, that I was first led to visit the spot with which 
the scenes of the present narrative are associated. I was 
then acting as a missionary in a large county, where, pre- 
vious to my occupancy of the field, there was not a single 
organized Episcopal congregation, with the exception of 
the one to which the M'Ellen family were attached. That 
had been organized a short time before I entered upon this 
field, and constituted one of the stations where I held 
regular and stated service. 

I had just commenced my ministry. Perhaps there 
was connected with my feelings some of the ardour and 
unwarranted expectation of young Melancthon. If so, I 
trust like him the error in my mind arose from the belief, 
that the love of Christ which had subdued my soul, would 
master the most stubborn heart and bring it into sweet sub- 
jection to the divine will To preach the reconciling 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 29 

Early history of the M'Ellens. 

word, appeared to me more delightful and glorious than 
any employment this side of heaven. 

At the close of a service, held in the little and newly 
gathered parish, with which the M'Ellen family were con- 
nected, Mr. Robert M'Ellen came to me and said, — 

" You will greatly oblige me, if you will consent to 
preach this evening at five o'clock, at my house, about 
three miles distant." 

" Most cheerfully will I do it," was the reply. 

"The special reason why I make this request," he 
remarked, " is, that 1 have an aged mother, who on account 
of her feeble and infirm health, and the distance we live 
from here, is unable to enjoy the privileges of the sanc- 
tuary. She is now," he added, " nearly eighty years old, 
but still retains her mental faculties vigorous and unim- 
paired." 

It was in complying with this request of Mr. M'Ellen, 
that I witnessed one of the most interesting and affecting 
scenes, that ever came within my knowledge. Many years 
have since elapsed — trials and sorrows have met me in 
my journey — great mercies have been strown around my 
path — life wears a different aspect before me now from 
what it then did ; yet this scene lives fresh and vivid in 
my memory, as though it were but yesterday that I witness- 
ed it. I must not, however, proceed to the delineation, until 
I have acquainted the reader with the previous history of 
this family of the M'Ellens. 

Joseph M'Ellen was born in one of the Atlantic States, 
and reared up under a strict religious discipline. At the 
very outset in life, he bore a high character for integrity 
and manly virtue. He also, as it is believed, became early 
a subject of God's transforming grace. He had for many 
years been attached to a young lovely girl, nearly of his 
own age. The desire of his heart was now gratified in 
the possession of Elizabeth Munson, as his own wedded 
wife. They were both the children of farmers, and they 
expected to spenl their days in agricultural pursuits. 

3* 



30 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Emigration to the west. 



Their means however were slender, and the unsettled lands 
of the west presented many attractions. They determined 
to emigrate. They soon carried their resolution into effect, 
and found themselves in anew country, where they had to 
encounter many hardships, and submit to many privations. 
This, however, they did cheerfully, as they were living in 
the hope of seeing better days. To Joseph M'Ellen 
these hopes were never realized on earth. A few years 
only had elapsed, and he fell a victim to one of those fevers 
to which all new countries are subject. His two eldest 
sons, Robert and Joseph, could hardly be said, at this time, 
to have entered upon manhood. Upon them, however, 
devolved the business of paying for their land, and clearing 
away the thick forest that covered it. In this they were 
aided not a little by the counsel of their mother, Elizabeth 
M'Ellen. She was ever solicitous to form her children to 
habits of industry, but far more anxious to form their minds 
to habits of piety. 

As 1 have before intimated, Mr. M'Ellen had conse- 
crated himself to the Lord in early life ; and she who had 
long shared his affections, was not a stranger to the cross 
of Christ. In this they were happily united. They both 
loved the Saviour, and they were both warmly attached to 
the Episcopal church. This was the church of their 
choice. Educated in the bosom of another denomination 
of Christians, they had attached themselves to this, from a 
conviction of the soundness of its doctrines, the apostolic 
character of its ministry, and the spirituality of its liturgy. 

In leaving the place of their nativity, and taking up their 
abode in a new and thinly settled country, they were 
necessarily deprived of a privilege which the Episcopalian 
esteems the greatest of all earthly privileges, the services 
of his own church. They did not so feel this privation, 
until they had arrived at their log-house, and the blessed 
day of rest found them in the midst of a dense forest. On 
the morning of the first Sabbath after having taken posses- 
sion of their new re. idence, when according to their formei 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 31 

Worship in a log room. 

custom, every member of the family appeared in clean and 
comely apparel, the greatness of this privation began to be 
felt. 

" I fear," said Mrs. M'Ellen, " in taking the step we 
have, we have not fully estimated the loss of privileges 
that we shall sustain. How are we to spend our Sundays ?" 
" Of that I have thought much," said Mr. M'Ellen, "and 
in my reflections upon this subject, I have discovered an 
additional reason for increased attachment to the Episcopal 
church. We have our Prayer Books with us ; we can 
therefore always have the regular service of the church, 
and on Sundays we will turn our little log-room into 3 
chapel." 

This proposition was immediately put into execution, 
and the service was invariably and uniformly read on Sun- 
days, and all the children taught to join and take their 
several parts in it, until the sickness and death of Mr. 
M'Ellen. A most interesting scene was witnessed the next 
Sunday after the death of this worthy man, who like the 
patriarch of old had been to his family both a father and a 
priest. 

I can in no way give you a better idea of it, than by re- 
peating the narration which I received from Robert M'Ellen, 
who was one of the actors in this scene. This interesting 
narration was as follows. 

" The children were all neatly clad and seated around 
the room with their Prayer Books. Every thing appeared 
as it used to, when my father was alive. The little cherry 
stand stood where it always had, on a Sunday morning. 
Upon it were laid the large Bible and Prayer Book. My 
mother had been absent for some half an hour, and, as I 
supposed, was attending to some necessary domestic con- 
cerns. I sat wondering who would fill my father's place. 
At length my mother entered the room, and, covered with 
weeds of mourning, proceeded to the little stand and kneel- 
ed down before it. We were all silent. In a few minutes 
she arose. There was a slight flush upon her cheek, a 



32 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 






The mother conducting the worship of her family. 



tear stood in her eye, and her lips quivered with emotion. 
With a tremulous voice she thus began : ' Let the words 
of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be always 
acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my Re- 
deemer.' We all instantly arose, and through the service 
made the proper responses, with which we were all fami- 
liar. My mother continued to read the service with perfect 
self-control until she came to the prayer, ''for persons 
under affliction :' then her voice faltered and her utterance 
was choked. This was a trying moment to me. — My 
beloved father was no more. His death was fresh in my 
recollection. The voices of my little brothers and sisters 
uttering the responses, were still sounding in my ear. My 
mother was at this moment kneeling before the throne of 
God, and borne down by such a load of wounded feeling 
that she could not speak. All this was too much for me. 
It roused within me a flood of sensibility that I could not 
control. I wept, I sobbed aloud, I looked about with a 
wild and feverish gaze. All in the room were on their 
knees — all were silent, except myself. The tears were 
indeed trickling down from all the young eyes around me ; 
but they fell like the dew-drops of evening, in silence. At 
length my mother proceeded, ' Remember these children, 
O Lord, in mercy ; sanctify thy fatherly correction to them, 
endue their souls with patience under their affliction, and 
with resignation to thy blessed will — comfort them with 
a sense of thy goodness — lift up thy countenance upon 
them, and give them peace through Jesus Christ our 
Lord.' 

" I felt that I wanted peace, but at this time I knew little 
about ' that peace which the icorld cannot give.'' 

" After the conclusion of the service, my mother appeared 
perfectly calm and unagitated. She even seemed happy. 
This was not the case with me. The burden of feeling 
which had pressed me down continued to rest upon me 
with all its undiminished weight. 

" I scarcely knew what hand had inflicted this wound 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 33 

The impressions of Robert M Ellen. 



upon my heart. But I knew that I wanted comfort ; and as 1 
had seen my mother derive a peace of mind from the devo- 
tions of the Prayer Book, I betook myself to the use and 
examination of it in secret. In the use of all its prayers, 
I found that I had to address myself to God in the acknow- 
ledged character of a sinner. I began to feel the truth of 
this designation. I began to discover that the mysterious 
burden under which I was labouring was the burden of 
unforgiven sin. As soon as I had made this discovery, I 
anxiously looked around to find some way by which 1 
could remove this burden. Here again 1 had recourse to 
my Prayer Book. It told me I never could remove that 
burden, but Jesus Christ must take it off. I went to the 
Bible, and that told me the same thing. 

" My mind during the two following weeks underwent 
various exercises. I had revealed my feelings to no one. 
My mother continued to read the service on Sunday, and 
to assemble us for family prayer every night and morning. 
It was during morning prayer on the third Sunday after 
my father's death, when in the Litany, my mother utter- 
ed this invocation, * O Lamb of God who takest away 
the sins of the world,' that in repeating the response 
* Grant us thy peace, 1 I first felt the meaning of this 
petition ; and as I uttered it, I felt a peace, more than 
earthly, gently stealing over my soul. And when the same 
maternal voice repeated the invocation, * O Lamb of God 
who takest away the sin« of the world,' my heart was 
filled with gratitude, anJ my eyes with tears, as I joined 
the response, * Have merit/ upon us.' 

" 1 continued to conceal my feelings. Still I was conscious 
that I was changed. My heart was filled with divine love. 
As I walked into the field I could see the goodness of God 
inscribed upon every plant and flower. These were dis* 
coveries that never before arrested my attention. My Bible 
began to appear more and more precious to me, and I was 
constantly longing for the return of the hallowed day of 
rest. 



34 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Religious exercises disclosed. 

" One evening as I sat reading to my mother, all the 
family at this time being out of the room, when I came to 
this passage, * Therefore, if any man be in Christ he is a 
new creature,' I stopped, and asked her how she under- 
stood this passage ? My parents had often explained to me 
the meaning of various parts of Scripture, but I had never 
before presumed to solicit ar. exposition, and upon a mo- 
ment's reflection I felt almost astonished at myself for 
having done so at this time. Nothing, however, could 
have more delighted my mother. She immediately gave 
me a clear and succinct account of the fall and depravity 
of our race, the atonement of Christ, the agency of the 
Spirit, and the new creation effected by that agency. She 
then described the views, feelings, and affections of a man 
while in a state of nature, and compared them with the 
views, feelings, and affections of that same man after having 
been renewed by divine grace. 

" My attention was riveted, and my heart filled with 
trepidation. She had described my case exactly. I had 
disclosed my feelings to no one, yet she had delineated 
them with the utmost precision. She concluded her re- 
marks by saying, « No one, unless he is in Christ, and 
therefore a new creature, can expect to be saved. It was 
this, the hope gathered from the blood of sprinkling, that 
sustained and comforted your father in his last agony.' 

" ' My mother,' said T, ' I believe I am in Christ Jesus, 
for I am conscious :hai I am a new creature.' I then 
related to her the history of my exercises, and told her how 
the prayers of the service, and her reading of them, had by 
the blessing of God been made the instrument both of my 
conviction and of my conversion. 

" Never shall I forget the delight of this moment. My 
mother threw her arms around me, and exclaimed, ' Robert, 
when I first pressed thy infant form, my first-born child, to 
my heart, my bosom thrilled with ecstasy ; but the delight 
I then felt was nothing compared with that I feel in hold 



THE m'ellen family. 35 

Reluctance in speaking to friends on personal religion. 

frig thee in my embrace, now that thou art indeed a child 
of God." 

" Having revealed my feelings to one human being, I no 
longer felt that it would be sacrilege to disclose them to 
others. I began to think it was my duty to speak to 
my younger brother about the momentous concerns of 
eternity. 

" For several days I made frequent resolutions to do it, but 
as often as an opportunity presented, my heart failed me, 
and I could not bring myself up to the effort. 

" I know not how it is, but I have often observed, that 
we feel much more reluctance in speaking to our family 
friends on the subject of religion, than we do in speaking 
to others. 

" Several days had elapsed since I had communicated my 
feelings to my mother. My brother and myself were work 
ing together in the same field. In my morning devotions 1 
had fervently implored divine direction in relation to the 
communication I had determined to make that day to him. 
A short suspension of our labours brought the desired op- 
portunity. I will not attempt to describe my feelings, nor 
his agitation. I soon found that his feelings and views had 
undergone the same change that mine had, and that he 
ascribed his first serious impressions to the religious exer- 
cises of the interesting Sabbath that followed my father's 
death. This intelligence in relation to my brother was of 
course delightful tidings to my mother. She saw new evi- 
dence that God does all things well, and that he can make 
the most afflictive dispensations immediately subservient to 
his purposes of mercy. 

" She proposed that I should now act as the chaplain 
to the family. I accordingly acceded to her request, and 
performed divine service regularly on Sundays from that 
time to the organization of an Episcopal church in this 
community, a period of almost twenty years . As the land 
around us began to be taken up, and settlers came in, seve* 



36 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 






Results of a regular performance of the liturgy. 



ral of our neighbours repaired to our house regularly on 
Sundays. They at first came out of curiosity, but in time 
they became attacbed to the liturgy, and substantially pious. 
And several of these individuals ascribed their first religious 
impressions to the solemn and sublime devotions of the 
Prayer Book. Thus a regular performance of the liturgy 
in a private family was the means not only of laying the 
foundation of a church, but of awakening numbers in 
seriousness " 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. %1 



Continued affliction. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE HOLY SUPPER. 

" Sweet awful hour ! — the only sound, 
One gentle footstep gliding round, 
Offering by turns, on Jesus' part, 
The cross to every hand and heart." 

Keble. 

i was anxious that the reader should have presented to 
him the scene which was acted in Joseph M'Ellen's house, 
the Sunday after his death, in the language of one that was 
present, and upon whom that solemn scene made a deep 
and lasting impression ; and I accordingly gave the state- 
ments in Robert M'Ellen's own words, from a manuscript 
sketch which I obtained from him. The history of the 
M'Ellen family will be continued through the present 
chapter by copying from the same manuscript. Robert 
M'Ellen remarks, — 

" Divine Providence continued to send afflictions along 
with our comforts. In about six weeks after my father's 
death, three of the youngest members of our family, a 
brothei and two sisters, were, within a few days of each 
other, called from time to eternity. My mother had 
scarcely recovered from the fatigue occasioned by attend- 
ance upon my father during his last illness, when she was 
again called to spend wakeful nights by the bedside of her 
sick and dying children. The fatigue she had to endure, 
was increased by the circumstances of our situation. The 
country was then so new, and thinly inhabited, that we 
could scarcely be said to have neighbours. Around us, on 
all sides, spread the dense and lengthening forest. When 

4 



38 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The sick room. 

nighi came on, the howl of the wolf was heard ; but no 
friendly and kind-hearted neighbours entered our dwelling 
to watch by the bedside of the sick. 

" The fatigue occasioned by continual watching, and the 
anguish with which my mother's heart was wrung, in fol- 
lowing her husband and three of her children, within so 
short a period, to the grave, brought on a fever. From the 
commencement of her illness, she had a strong presenti- 
ment that she should never rise from that sick bed. Seve- 
ral of the ties that once bound her to the earth were now 
broken. One half of her children were gone. The part- 
ner of her toils and hopes was sleeping in the earth. In 
all these dispensations she recognised the hand of God. 
She did not repine. The same fever which cut down my 
father was now burning through her veins. She thought 
she should die. One evening she called us all around hei 
bed, and told us so. ' And now,' said she, ' my children 
remember this hour. See me here all weakness — all pain. 
Of what avail to me now would be all the honours, and 
pleasures, and wealth of the world ? To me they now 
appear lighter than the dust in the balance. There is but 
one object upon which my eye rests with satisfaction ; and 
that object is Christ crucified. O, my children, if you 
would have the arms of everlasting mercy underneath you 
in such an hour as this, join yourselves by a perpetual 
covenant unto the Saviour of sinners ; follow him through 
life, and he will support you in death.' She then charged 
me and my brother to be an example and pattern to our 
young orphan sister. She said, that she felt no reluctance 
in resigning her soul to her heavenly Father. She felt no 
reluctance in committing her children to the care and kind- 
ness of that God to whom she had dedicated them in bap- 
tism. She had but one earthly wish, and that was, that 
she might once more, before she left this clay tenement, 
receive the consecrated symbols of her Saviour's dying love. 

" It so happened, that on that very evening, there arrived 
at our abode some of our old acquaintances from the place 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 30 



The effort to gratify a mother's dying wish. 



of my nativity. They were of course distressed by our 
affliction. The conversation very soon took a serious turn. 
I mentioned my mother's request, and lamented that we 
were so far removed from any clergyman. Our friends 

then told us that in the town of M , where they stayed 

two nights before, they met some of their old friends who 
had taken up their residence in that town a number of years 
previous. Among the other intelligence that they had to 
communicate to them was, that a missionary of the Epis- 
copal church had preached several times to them, and was 
designing to spend a number of weeks in that quarter ; and 
that although they formerly had strong prejudices against 
that church, they began to think more favourably of it. 

11 No sooner had I received this information than my 
resolution was taken. I determined to start with the 

earliest dawn for M . I sat by the bedside of my 

mother till the first faint streaks of light began to appear 
in the eastern sky. I then gently pressed her hand in 
mine, and told her that I was going after the man of God, 
and would soon return. I immediately went to the door ; 
but, ere I closed it, I turned to gaze again upon the face of 
my dear mother. A death-like expression sat upon that 
face. I closed the door. The heavens were still hung with 
blackness — a sense of perfect desolateness came over me. 
The thought was strongly impressed upon my mind, that 
I should never again see my mother alive. I felt anxious 
to gratify the wish she had expressed ; yet I could not 
endure the thought of her dying while I was absent. 
My hand was still on the door when I heard her faintly 
articulate my name. I hastily raised the latch, and went 
to her bed. ' My son,' said she, ' do not leave me until 
you have commended me to God in prayer.' I felt I had 
done wrong. My heart, however, was too full to speak. 
I took down the Prayer Book, and opened to the prayer 
'for a sick person.' Never before did words sink so 
deep into my soul. It seemed to me as though this prayer 
had been formed on purpose for that occasion — it suited so 



40 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The missionary. 

exactly to the case, and accorded so perfectly with my 
feelings. No other words could have unburdened my 
heart. Kneeling by the bedside, I thus prayed : — 

" * O Father of mercies, and God of all comfort, our only 
help in time of need, look down from heaven, we humbly 
beseech thee, behold, visit, and relieve this thy sick ser- 
vant. Look upon her with the eyes of thy mercy ; com- 
fort her with a sense of thy goodness ; preserve her from 
the temptations of the enemy ; give her patience under her 
affliction ; and, in thy good time, restore her to health, and 
enable her to lead the residue of her life in thy fear, and to 
thy glory ; or else give her grace so to take thy visitation, 
that after this painful life is ended, she may dwell with 
thee in life everlasting, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' 

" I had no sooner uttered the words of this prayer, than 
my mind felt relieved. My heart grew lighter. I had 
committed my mother into the hands of God, and I felt 
that she was safe. 

" It required but a few minutes to get my horse in readi- 
ness, and I rode forward with a bounding heart towards 

M . The sun had sunk below the western horizon 

before I reached the place of my destination. The dis- 
tance I had to travel was upwards of forty miles. This, 
considering the country I had to pass through, was a 
fatiguing ride. Some part of the way, the trees were barely 
cut down to designate the road; and in other parts, the 
traveller had no other guide than the marks that had been 
made by an incision in the trees. The weary way was at 
length passed over. I found the missionary at the house 
of a respectable farmer. I told him my errand. The tear 
glistened in his eye as I briefly told him the story of our 
afflictions. He promptly said he would accompany me on 
the morrow. The farmer kindly offered me a bed, to which 
I soon retired ; not, h^ .vever, till we had kneeled around 
the family altar. 

" We were on our way early the next morning. There 
was nothing morose or repulsive in the countenance o 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 41 

Qualifications for the communion. 

manners of the missionary. Although sedate, he was very 
cheerful. Although dignified, he had the happy faculty of 
drawing one immediately into familiar conversation. We 
rode along together for a number of miles, conversing 
about things that were neither altogether secular nor alto- 
gether religious. As I was a stranger to him, he wished 
to elicit my views. He soon discovered that I had a love 
for religion, and before I was aware of it, drew from me 
the whole history of my religious exercises. I told him I 
wished to join my mother in partaking of the holy com- 
munion. He replied that the test for self-examination was 
well expressed in our catechism, — ' Those who desire to 
come to the Lord's supper, are to examine themselves 
whether they repent them truly of their former sins, stead- 
fastly purposing to lead a new life — have a lively faith in 
God's mercy, through Christ, with a thankful remembrance 
of his death, and be in charity with all men.' 

" Repentance, reformation, faith, love to God and to our 
fellow men, were, he said, included in this requirement. 
'And our church,' continued he, 'designs to admit no 
one to the sacramental table who does not give evidence of 
these qualifications.' The conversation continued upon 
this and similar subjects, through the remainder of the 
day ; and I derived much edification and instruction from 
the discourse of this godly man. His conversation quite 
beguiled the tediousness of the journey ; and almost before 
I thought of it, we had arrived in view of our cottage. I 
hastily rode forward, sprung from my horse, and rushed 
into the house. I met my brother Joseph at the door. ' Is 
she alive ?' said I, but did not wait for an answer — I was 
instantly by her bedside, and found her more comfortable 
than ivhen I left her. The missionary understood the 
language of affection, and did not think it rudeness, though 
I left mm so unceremoniously. My brother took charge 
of his horse, and invited him in. 

" The next morning was mentioned as the time of cele 
b"fting the communion. In the course of the evening, the 

4* 



425 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Mary M'EUen an instance of early piety. 



missionary received such evidence, from my brother's con- 
versation, of his having- passed through the 'new birth 
unto righteousness,' that he advised him to receive the 
sacrament on the morrow. 

" His conversation with my mother was very reviving to 
her. He seemed to us all like a ministering angel. He 
spoke to my sister Mary, and entreated her to join her bro- 
thers, now that they were on their way to Zion. Mary was 
only fifteen years old at this time. Her heart was all tender- 
ness and sensibility. She could not speak, but burst into 
a flood of tears. Since my father's death she had been 
apparently very thoughtful and serious. I had once or 
twice seen the tears gush from her eyes, while reading to 
herself in the Bible ; but the moment she perceived I 
observed her, she made an effort to be more than ordinarily 
cheerful. I supposed that these effusions of sensibility 
were called forth by the recollection of the death of her 
little sisters and her father. 

" The morning came. It was in one of the summer 
months. All nature was fresh and fair. The sun was 
pouring down his warm rays upon the smiling earth. 
Some time before the appointed hour for celebrating the holy 
eucharist, I walked out for the purpose of religious medita- 
tion. I directed my course towards a large tree that stood 
at no great distance from the house, that I might enjoy the 
coolness of its shade. As I approached the tree, I ob- 
served the slender form of my sister. She was in the act 
of prayer, and on her knees. I stole softly along to her 
side, without apprizing her of my presence. She seemed 
to be pouring out her soul in all the fervency of devotion. 
She was so young and so amiable, and appeared so inte- 
resting, and so heavenly, in the lone field, lifting up her 
heart to God, that I could hardly refrain from weeping. 
She was startled, when, having finished her devotions, she 
discovered me at her side. But I clasped her in my arms, 
pressed her to my bosom, and told her it gave me more 
pleasure to see her where I had seen her, than it would t© 



THE m'ellen family. 43 



The communicant's sense of unworthiness. 



have seen her on a throne. She wept and sobbed aloud 
for a long time. At length she said, ' O that I was a 
Christian.' I tried to point out the way in which she 
should seek to be one indeed. I soon learnt that her mind 
was religiously impressed at the very time, and by the very 
circumstances, that mine was. That which agitated heron 
the present occasion was, her anxiety to join us in partak- 
ing of the Lord's supper. Although she had for some time 
felt a heavenly peace of mind, still she had such a deep 
sense of her own unworthiness, that it made her tremble to 
think of presuming to approach the table of the Lord. By 
her consent I went to the house, and intimated to the mis 
sionary that I wished to take a short walk with him : I 
immediately retraced my steps to the same tree, and on the 
way informed him of the object for which I had called him 
out. He appeared thoughtful, but said nothing. 

" When we had come where my sister was, he sat him- 
self down in the shade, and with an affectionate voice said, 
* I am rejoiced, Mary, to hear that you are desirous to set 
your face towards Zion. The holy eucharist which we are 
soon to celebrate, is designed " to strengthen and refresh 
our souls," that "we may run and not be weary, and that 
we may walk and not faint." ' 

" He then took a Prayer Book out of his pocket, and 
continued, i You feel too unworthy to come to the feast of 
the Lamb. I will read you part of the prayer in the com- 
munion service, immediately before the consecration of the 
elements, which is said in the name of all those who are 
about to receive the communion. " We do not presume to 
come to this thy table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our 
own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. 
We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs 
under thy table. But thou art the same Lord, whose pro- 
perty is always to have mercy." You see that none of us 
trust in our own worthiness, but in the worthiness of 
Christ. In going to the holy supper, you go trusting in 
the name and merits of Jesus. If you have truly repented 



44 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Administration of the Lord's supper to the sick. 

of your sins, and are resolved to lead a new life, by re- 
fusing to go to the table of the Lord, you declare that you 
have not faith in the atoning blood of Christ.' We all 
returned in company to the house. The hour had arrived 
for the service to commence. 

"All that have ever witnessed the celebration of the 
Lord's supper in public, agreeably to the service of our 
church, pronounce it the most impressive scene that they 
ever witnessed. But there is something still more impres- 
sive where it is celebrated in a sick room. 

" The idea that one of the persons who is about to par- 
take of the sacred elements will, in a few hours, partake of 
the feast of the Lamb in the kingdom of God, spreads an 
awe and sacredness over every thing around us. This per- 
son is one of our family friends, to whom we feel endeared by 
ten thousand sacred recollections. Perhaps it is a mother. 
The traces of the bony fingers of death appear on her coun- 
tenance. That eye which watched over us in infancy and 
childhood is faded and sunken. That look of kindness 
which dwelt so fondly on us has almost disappeared be- 
neath the pale signet of the king of terrors. ' There lies 
my mother, whose bosom was my pillow, and whose arms 
were my cradle. She is receiving the bread and wine for 
the last time on earth. Soon that dear form will be beneath 
the turf, and that pure spirit beyond the skies.' O there is 
enough in these thoughts to hallow every feeling ! 

" I know not what may be the objection that some reli- 
gious denominations have to administering the communion 
to the sick. I rejoice that our church recognises the pro- 
priety of it. It is certainly an act which invigorates the 
soul of the sick, and makes deep and lasting impressions 
upon those who witness it. 

"Such, at all events, were the happy effects of the admi- 
nistration of the Lord's supper in the instance of which I 
am now speaking. 

" The service commenced. The voice of the missionary 
on this occasion was more than usually soft and plaintive 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 45 

The confession of sin. 

He was a man of sensibility. He had heard the story of 
our afflictions, and he was acquainted with the history of 
our blessings. The promptings of his own heart expounded 
to him the meaning of that sacred injunction, ' of weeping 
with those that weep.' To me the whole scene was a 
scene of intense interest. As the service proceeded, my 
thoughts became completely engrossed in the devotions of 
this sublime office. I was particularly struck with the 
confession. It seemed to meet my case exactly. Had an 
angel dictated it, it could not have expressed more fully 
the feelings that were then glowing in my bosom. It 
seemed as though we were in the very porch of heaven, 
as the missionary, with tremulous and silvery tones, 
breathed forth its penitential acknowledgments — 'Al- 
mighty God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Maker of 
all things, Judge of all men ; we acknowledge and bewail 
our manifold sins and wickedness, which we from time to 
time most grievously have committed, by thought, word, 
and deed, against thy divine majesty; provoking most 
justly thy wrath and indignation against us. We do 
earnestly repent and are heartily sorry for these our mis- 
doings ; the remembrance of them is grievous unto us ; 
the burden of them is intolerable. Have mercy upon us, 
have mercy upon us, most merciful Father.' Never before 
did I feel so much the weight and hatefulness of sin, as 
while uttering this confession. Every now and then I 
heard my mother's voice faintly articulating some part of 
this prayer. In the sublime devotions of the communion 
service, her thoughts seemed to be borne away from earth. 
" The elements were now consecrated. I looked at my 
mother, and saw that she was calm and tranquil. Her eye 
rested upon myself and my brother, as we came forward 
and kneeled before the table, on which were placed the 
symbols of the broken and bleeding body of Jesus. She 
seemed to look a blessing towards us. Twice had the man 
of God said, ' The body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which 
was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto ever- 



46 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

A mother's emotions. 

lasting life,' before my sister left her seat, — she then rose 
and came, and kneeled by my side. Her whole frame 
shook with emotion. My mother knew nothing of her 
state of mind, or of her determination. 

"To see her young and tender daughter so unexpectedly 
come forward and consecrate herself to God, aroused in 
her bosom a tide of feeling that she could not control. 
The tears rushed down her cheeks, and the serenity that 
had rested upon her countenance fled. She drew the 
clothes of the bed over her face, and sobbed aloud. For a 
few moments there was perfect silence in the room. Then, 
in trembling accents, the missionary proceeded in the ad- 
ministration of the sacrament. He went to my mother, 
and presented the elements to her. As she received the 
sacred chalice, ere she raised it to her lips, she lifted up 
her eyes, and said aloud, ' Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- 
vant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. 
Mine eyes have seen all my children eating at thy table. 
Grant that I and they may sit down together at thy table in 
thy kingdom above. I had thought to leave these children 
orphans, but they cannot be orphans, since adopted into 
thy family. Holy Father, keep, through thine own name, 
those whom thou hast given me. I pray not that thou 
shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou shouldst 
keep them from evil.' " 



I cannot here refrain from relating an incident illustra- 
tive of the truth of several points adverted to in the pre- 
ceding narrative, although it has no sort of connexion with 
the history of the M'Ellen family. Whatever tends to 
keep alive a spirit of devotion, and a principle of vital god- 
liness in the wilderness, is worthy of attention. 

About fifteen years ago, a young married couple, whc 
had spent their childhood amid the industry, and staid 
habits, and multiplied religious privileges of a New Eng- 
land village, emigrated to the far west. The fourth year 



THE M 'ELLEN FAMILY. 47 

A family in the far west. 

after their marriage, they found themselves on the banks 
of the Mississippi, just opposite the point where that 
proud river receives, as its rich tributary, all the gathered 
waters of the Missouri. Never did the foot of man tread 
upon a richer soil, or the human eye gaze around upon 
a more beautiful scenery. 

The land of prairies, of brooks and rivers, of corn and 
wheat, and of metals, was all before them. Wealth began 
to flow in. Both sons and daughters, which are " an heritage 
from the Lord," were given to them. Their little flocK 
began to appear, "like olive branches, round about tb^ir 
table." 

All this time, however, there was one very serious 
drawback to their comforts. Their religious privileges 
they had left behind them. There was a famine of the 
Word in the land in which they dwelt. Like many of 
New England's children, they had been blessed with pious 
parents. The efforts of those parents to lead their offspring 
to Christ had not been in vain. This couple, previous to 
their emigration, had taken upon them the vows of the 
covenant, and united themselves to the Lord as his people. 
They had been reared from their childhood in the bosom 
of the Episcopal church ; and, when they were awakened 
to spiritual discernment, they found that she, in whose 
bosom they had been cherished, had drink for the thirsty, 
and bread for the hungry. Thus, their attachment to her 
communion became more ardent and devoted. For nine 
years, however, they lived on the banks of the Mississippi 
without seeing the face of an Episcopal clergyman, more 
than once or twice, daring that whole period. Occasion- 
ally, they were permitted to hear a sermon from some 
itinerant preacher or missionary of the Methodist or Pres- 
byterian church. Gladly did they embrace every such 
opportunity ; gad truly grateful did they feel to Heaven for 
this refreshment in the wilderness. As year after year 
passed aw.y, they became truly hungry for the bread of 
life. They longed tr see again one of those days wher 



48 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

A mother's last wish. 

they used to go up together to the house of the Lord, and 
unite in the hallowed strains of their own beloved liturgy. 

At length the hand of disease was laid upon the mother. 
Though comparatively young, and in possession of a firm 
constitution — though there was immediately procured in her 
behalf all the medical aid which the country afforded — the 
ravages of disease were neither stayed nor turned back. 
On the other hand, it became but too apparent to all around 
her that she was wasting down to death. 

As she lay stretched on the couch of languishing, day 
after day growing more and more feeble, she herself came 
to the conclusion, that she was on her dying bed. At such 
a time it was natural that her mind should revert to the 
scenes of her early life, when she was in the midst of her 
friends, and a mother's kindness watched her every step. 

Those friends were now all far away. No mother's 
soft gentle hand now rested on her pale, burning brow ! 
But it was not the absence of these friends that drew the 
deep sigh from her bosom, and caused the big tear to roll 
down her cheek. Her little ones stood around her bed : 
she looked on them, and then she wept ! She had sought 
to train them in the way everlasting. Like the M 'Ellen 
family, these Christian parents had converted their dwelling 
on the Sabbath into a chapel, and their children were 
taught to mingle their little voices in the responses of the 
service. 

This sick and dying mother felt that she was willing to 
give up her husband and children to God ; but when she 
saw those dear little ones stand around her bed, she remem- 
bered that they had not been baptized in the name of the 
holy Trinity. She felt that she could not die, till they had 
been sacramentally given up to God. It was this that made 
the tears trickle down her pale cheek. And then too she 
felt, that it was a long, long while, since she had received 
the memorials of her Saviour's dying love. And now thf 
death was pressing hard upon her, she felt that she needed 
the strengthening influence of that holy ordinance to help 



THE UTELLEN FAMILY. 4D 

A sister. Conclusion. 

her over Jordan. But Elijah was not there — the prophet 
could not be found. There was but one Episcopal clergy- 
man then in the whole state, and he resided more than two 
hundred miles distant. A message, however, was immedi- 
ately despatched to him. For two or three days, the hope 
was cherished, that the flickering flame of life would last 
till the man of God arrived. Often did this dying disciple 
say — " Let me hear the voice of Christ's minister, wel- 
coming my offspring into the Redeemer's fold, and invok- 
ing the blessings of God on the sacramental bread and wine ; 
let me once more receive those emblems of Christ's broken 
and bleeding body, and I shall be ready to bid adieu to all 
earthly scenes." 

But in this last wish, the dying mother, unlike Mrs. 
M'Ellen, was ungratified. She could not await the slow 
arrival of the distant missionary. Already the silver cord 
was loosed, and her spirit, fixing all its hopes on the blood 
of the everlasting covenant, winged its way to the blessed 
mansions of peace. 

She, whose wishes, and sorrows, and privations, and 
dissolution have been described, was one whom the author 
well knew ; yea, one whom he tenderly loved,- — one who 
bore to him the interesting relation of an only sister. 



The manuscript narrative of Robert M'Ellen, which has 
been interrupted by the relation of the preceding incident, 
and from which the contents of this chapter have been 
principally transcribed, states, that Mrs. M'Ellen's fever in 
a few days after the visit of the missionary took a favour- 
able turn, and she was speedily restored to health. It also 
gives a history of the family up to the time of my acquaint* 
ance with them, in which are to be found several interest 
ing details. But I shall at once conduct the reader into the 
midst of the affecting scene connected with the history of 
this family which fell under my own observation. 

5 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



The country scene. 



CHAPTER III. 

A DEATH SCENE. 

The room I well remember 

and all the faces too 

That crowded dark and mournfully around, 
This I remember well ; but better still 
I do remember, and will ne'er forget, 
The dying eye ! That eye alone was bright, 
And brighter grew, as nearer death approach'd." 

Pollok. 

According to the suggestion made at the close of the 
preceding chapter, I now hasten to give the reader some 
account of the interesting and affecting scene I witnessed 
in the dwelling of Robert M'Ellen, on the Sunday evening 
that I preached at his house. 

The log-dwelling that had formerly been occupied by the 
M'Ellen family had been removed, and in its place there 
appeared a neat and spacious farm-house. This was now 
the residence of Robert M'Ellen, in whose family his aged 
and venerable mother was an inmate. 

I have before observed that it was in the month of June 
when I first approached this dwelling. There did not then 
spread a wide and impenetrable forest around it ; but for 
miles in every direction there stretched before the delighted 
eye finely cultivated fields, luxuriant orchards, and well- 
arranged farm-houses. Here and there were seen fragments 
of that once boundless forest, reserved by the cultivator of 
the earth, for a retreat to shelter hirn from the summer's 
heat, and for fuel to dispel the winter's cold. The foliage 
of the trees at this time was unusually thick, rich, and 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 51 

Elizabeth M 'Ellen. 

beautiful. Not one of those ten thousand leaves which 
had so recently burst into being had as yet felt the blight- 
ing touch of the worm, the sun, or the frost ; but they all 
appeared fresh and verdant. 

On either side of this dwelling were wheat fields waving 
in the gentle breeze, in all the luxuriance of perfect verdure. 

As I was passing through this rich landscape, there 
seemed to ascend from the soft and beautiful bosom of the 
earth ten thousand sounds of praise to the Great Eternal. 
There was much in the scenery around me, connected with 
the history of the inhabitants of the dwelling I was ap- 
proaching, to attune my feelings to the solemnities of wor- 
ship. 

I did not arrive till the appointed hour of service. A few 
of the neighbours had come in, but the families of Robert 
and Joseph M'Ellen, being very numerous, constituted the 
majority of the congregation. 

I was led immediately into the room where this grave 
and devout group were assembled. Before the chair where 
I was seated was placed a cherry stand, and on it lay a 
Bible and Prayer Book. This was the very piece of furni- 
ture, and these the very books, with which, in the minds 
of that family, were associated so many ssicred recollec- 
tions, and which, the reader will readily remember, were 
used on a very interesting occasion twenty -five years before. 

Near the stand sat the aged and venerable Elizabeth 
M'Ellen. As the minds of all were in a fit frame for 
devotion, this was very properly considered no time for 
formal introductions. But although I had never before 
seen this worthy woman, I could not be mistaken. There 
was in her countenance, which age had in vain strove to 
disfigure with wrinkles, an expression of intelligence and 
of loftiness of purpose that I have seldom witnessed. By 
her side sat her daughter, who had rejected numerous 
advantageous offers of marriage, from her unwillingness 
to be separated, or to allow any of her affection or attention 
to be withdrawn, from her mother. 



52 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

What is implied in infant dedication. 

The service commenced; I observed with pleasure that 
Mrs. M'Eilen joined audibly in the responses, and that all 
her grandchildren, for they were all present, seemed 
anxious to imitate her example. They all had their Prayer 
Books, though several of them were quite young, and all 
seemed to unite in the service with interest and devotion. 
How differently educated were these families, who, till 
recently, had never enjoyed the ministrations of the sanc- 
tuary, from some that I have seen in old established con- 
gregations ! 

These parents attached some meaning to the " solemn 
vow, promise, and profession" that they made in the name 
of their children, when they brought them to the sacred 
waters of baptism. They viewed the dedication of their 
children to God in this holy ordinance, as one of the most 
interesting and momentous events in their whole history. 
They gave them up in faith, fully believing that God " for 
his part would surely keep and perform the promise"* he 
had made, to those " rightly" given up to him in baptism : 
and then they sought most diligently to bring up their 
baptized offspring " to lead a godly and a Christian life."i 
Their efforts were not in vain. The results of this reli- 
gious training and dedication of their children to God were 
seen in the correct deportment and early seriousness of 
those children. 

On the present occasion the scene was truly interesting. 
It must have been a scene upon which an angel could have 
looked down with a smile. As the worshippers kneeled 
down in prayer, the place seemed " none other but the 
house of God and the gate of heaven." Agreeably to the 
excellent provision of our admirable liturgy, the devotions 
were not all performed by one voice ; but there went up 
many united voices together, and there might have then 
been heard the song of praise ascending from the palsied 
lip of age and the lisping tongue of infancy. 

* Baptismal office for Infants. See the 27th of the 39 Articles. 
t Ibid. 






THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 53 



The power of trust in God. 



According to a custom which I have found useful on such 
occasions, I did not preach a written sermon, but discoursed 
in a plain and familiar manner on a passage of Scripture, 
leaving - something to be suggested by the circumstances 
around me. 

The passage selected for this occasion was the following : 
— "/n the Lord put I my trust." Psalm xi. 1. 

After having shown the ground of trust in God, and what 
it is to trust in him, I proceeded to portray the blessedness 
of trusting in him. On this article I felt confident that I 
was saying what a number around me were able to bear 
testimony to. And as my eye fell upon the aged and 
venerable form of Mrs. M'Ellen, who seemed even then 
" ripe for the hand of the reaper, as a shock of corn in his 
season," I could not refrain from descanting upon the 
power of trust in God, in the last trying hour when the 
sun of life goes down ; upon its power to sustain the 
sinking energies of the soul in that awful moment when 
it enters the dark valley of the shadow of death. " Blessed 
is the man that trusteth in the Lord ;" for to him, in the 
hour of death, the Lord will be a Sun and a Shield, — a Sun 
to enlighten the dark chasm through which he must pass, 
and a Shield to protect him from the fiery darts of the 
enemy. It is in this hour that the Great Shepherd doth 
carry his confiding children in his arms, and bear them in 
his bosom to the haven of everlasting rest. 

I saw these remarks went to the heart of her who was 
soon to test their truth by actual experiment. 

The hymn selected to close the religious exercises was 
the following : — 

" When I can read my title clear 

To mansions in the skies, 

I'll bid farewell to every fear, 

And wipe my weeping eyes," &c. 

Though feeble and infirm, I observed that Mrs. M'Ellen 
in conformity to the appropriate custom universally prac 
tised in our cl urch, of standing while praising God, arose 

5* 



54 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Blissful death. 

at the commencement of the hymn. As she stood among 
those who were lauding the Most High, methought thert 
was a form, and an attitude, worthy of being immortalized 
by the hand of a Raphael ; for hers had been one of the 
first order of fine forms, both tall and graceful. The 
weight of nearly ninety years now caused her to stoop. 
She united her voice in the singing, and swelled the sound 
of praise. 

The sun had just sunk beneath the horizon, and had left 
that beautiful but indescribable aspect on the whole face of 
nature, which you have often seen on a summer's day to 
rest upon those objects over which some tree hath thrown 
its shade. There was a universal stillness pervading the 
surrounding scene ; and the voice of the singers went up 
sweetly to the gates of heaven. To the last line, and the 
last note in the last line, the voice of Elizabeth M 'Ellen 
was distinctly heard. Her voice seemed to swell with 
richer and more animated sounds in the concluding verse, 
vhere the Christian's rest is anticipated, — 

" There I shall bathe my weary soul 
In seas of heavenly rest, 
And not a wave of trouble roll 
Across my peaceful breast." 

This was her last earthly song. — She sunk gently into 
her seat. For a moment a slight quivering shook her frame. 
Then all motion ceased. Her arms hung nerveless at her 
side, and her head reclined on her shoulder. 

The voices of the singers were raised in the ascription 
of praise to the Triune God, but her spirit had left its clay 
tenement, and gone to sing the doxology in the blissful 
mansions of departed saints, — had gone to " bathe in seas 
of heavenly rest." 

I shall close this narration with an account of hei 
faneral. 






THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 55 



The contemplation of death. 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE BURIAL. 



* Hark ! how the sacred calm that breathes around 
Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease, 
In still small accents whispering from the ground, 
A grateful earnest of eternal peace." 

Grat. 

To the reflecting mind a funeral scene is always instruct- 
ive. It was infinite wisdom that dictated the sentiment, 
that "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to 
the house of feasting." It is true that some men can 
remain unmoved and unimpressed amid the most solemn 
scenes of death. But they, who look at the relation of 
things, and gather, from the events transpiring around them, 
that moral instruction which God intends they shall con- 
vey, can hardly fail to have their " heart made better" 
by the solemnities of a funeral scene. I speak now par- 
ticularly of a funeral in the country. 

No one that has been bred in the country can have wit- 
nessed a funeral in the city without having felt some vio- 
lence done to the sensibilities of his heart. I have often 
stood at the corner of some square, upon whose area might 
be seen, from the earliest dawn even to the midnight hour, 
bustling thousands, and observed the train of coaches with 
their sable equipments moving on upon their melancholy 
errand, with slow and solemn pace, through this mass of 
beings, and wondered that it made so slight an impression 
upon the busy crowd. The funeral train, as it passed, 
perhaps flung a momentary feeling of solemnity upon the 



56 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Funeral in the country. 



lookers-on ; but in an instant the impression was gone, it 
was like a passing cloud that had darkened, for one fleeting 
instant, the splendour of the sun, and then was for ever lost 
in the effulgence of his bright beams. There was no fel- 
low feeling between the gay world without and the broken- 
hearted mourners within those vehicles. 

A funeral in the country presents a different aspect. 
When death enters the humblest cottage, the sympathies 
of the community are awakened ; the whole surrounding 
neighbourhood participate in the feelings of the bereaved, 
and make every sacrifice to be present to pay their last 
respect to the dead. At the appointed hour of the funeral 
there may be seen, in all directions, the repose and stillness 
of a Sabbath season. Men, who on no other occasion are 
present to witness religious exercises, deem it a debt they 
owe to society, to attend all the funerals in their neighbour- 
hood. 

The worth, distinguished piety, and singular death of 
Elizabeth M'Ellen, had drawn an immense concourse of 
people to witness her obsequies. 

Every thing was in readiness when 1 arrived ; and they 
were waiting to form the procession. The burial ground 
was about a quarter of a mile distant from Robert M'Ellen's 
house. Twelve strong-framed, but hoary headed men had 
been selected to bear the body to the grave ; and on each side 
of the coffin there walked three aged and infirm women as 
pall-bearers. Behind the coffin followed the children and 
grand children of the deceased ; and in their rear the pro- 
miscuous multitude who had been drawn together, on this 
occasion, either by curiosity or regard for the deceased. 

The procession was no sooner in motion, than an aged 
and venerable man, whom I had always seen at church 
when I preached at my missionary station in that neigh- 
bourhood, joined me, and walked by my side. As we 
preceded the procession, we were frequently so far before 
the bearers that we might have, with propriety, engaged 
in conversation. But I wa. too deeply impressed with 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 57 

The old farmer. 

the solemnity of the present scene, and the recollection of 
the past history of this family, to open my lips. For a 
short distance we moved on in silence ; then, in a subdued 
and under tone of voice, the aged man said, " Elizabeth 
has gone to rest." 

I replied, " that I believed she had died, ' having the 
testimony of a good conscience, in the communion of the 
-atholic church, in the confidence of a certain faith, in the 
comfort of a reasonable, religious, and holy hope, in favour 
with God, and in perfect charity with the world.' "* 

" O yes," said the honest and warm-hearted man, " I 
have known her for a long time. I lived on the hill yon- 
der when all this country was covered with woods — when 
the neighbours could not see each other's houses. I have 
known Elizabeth ever since. When we first came into 
this country, I thought I would go down one Sunday, and 
get acquainted with the M'Ellen family. I had never 
thought much about religion, and expected to find the folks 
there thinking and feeling as I did. 

•' On the way, I thought of a thousand amusing things 
to say, and was determined to convince them that I was a 
clever fellow. I therefore entered the house without much 
ceremony ; but in an instant all my merry thoughts were 
gone. Instead of finding the family lounging round in 
idleness, or engaged in some amusement, the first thing 
that struck my eye was the whole family on their knees, 
except Robert, who, just the moment I entered, was read- 
ing the fourth commandment, ' Remember that thou keep 
holy the Sabbath day. 1 My attention was riveted ; my 
conscience began to awake. And when, at the close of the 
commandment, they all around the room, young and old, 
put up this petition, * Lord have mercy upon us, and in- 
cline our hearts to keep this law,' I experienced sensa- 
tions that I shall never forget. AVhen the service and 
sermon were through, the family very cordially welcomed 
me to their house, saying that they would have church 

* From the office of thf Visitation of the Sick. 



58 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Erroneous doctrinal view. 



there the next Sunday, and should be happy if I would at- 
tend. I returned home, thoughtful. The sermon that was 
read dwelt upon my mind. The subject was the use of 
the means of grace; and the object of the discourse was, 
to show that we never need to expect salvation until we 
seek for it, and seek for it in the appointed way. All this 
was contrary to the ideas I had long cherished. I had been 
early taught that man can do nothing towards obtaining 
salvation, and that he must wait until moved by the irre- 
sistible grace of God. I had for many years been soothing 
my conscience with the belief that, if I was ever saved, it 
would be a work in which I could exert no agency ; that I 
had nothing to do but to sit still, and let God choose his 
own time and way in which to bring me to himself. I 
therefore felt no guilt arising from my neglect of repentance. 

" The design of this discourse was to show that it was 
every man's duty to repent at once, and make an imme- 
diate surrender of himself to God ; that every man who 
neglected this would be the author of his own destruction; 
that, instead of having nothing to do, we had a great deal 
to do ; and that no man could escape who did not do what- 
ever his hand found to do with all his might ; that the 
first thing that we had to do was, to go to Christ, and cast 
ourselves, as perishing sinners, on his atoning blood ; that 
we might be saved by his grace and sanctified by his 
Spirit. 

" I thought the sermon had a good deal of good sense 
and scripture on its side. I mused on this subject most 
of the following week. The next Sunday, I and my wife 
Jane went down to the M'Ellens, and stayed through both 
services. Jane's heart, I believe, was more tender than 
mine. She was entirely overcome by the sermon, which 
was on this text, ' What shall it profit a man, if he shall 
gain the whole world and lose his own soul V 

" Jane was so much affected that she wept. Mrs. 
M'Ellen had a tender heart. As soon as the exercises 
were through, she went to Jane, and kindly took her by 



THE m'ellen family. 59 

Effect of lay reading. 

the hand, and told her she was happy to see her and fori* 
an acquaintance with her; but most of all happy to te« 
that she felt interested in the momentous concerns of 
eternity. 

" 'Alas !' said Jane, ' I have neglected these things ail my 
life, and I fear I have lost my soul.' 

" I shall never forget with what a look of kindne-'f 
Elizabeth M'Ellen then fixed her eyes upon Jane. ' No,' 
said she, ' my dear woman, there is an all-sufficient Saviour 
for you.' She then talked so engagingly and affectionately 
about Jesus, and his dying for poor sinners, that she made 
us all weep. 

" On our way home, my wife said to me, ' James, why 
have we not thought of these things before ? — What will 
it profit us, if we gain the whole world, and at last lose 
our souls ?' My heart was too full to make any reply." 

" From this time, Jane began to read her Bible and 
pray. She soon found peace. After this we attended 
church, at the house of the M'Ellens, constantly. 

" O yes, it was Elizabeth M'Ellen that first turned the 
eye of my poor Jane to Jesus. Poor Jane ! she died 
about three years ago ; but she died blessing Elizabeth 
M'Ellen, and rejoicing in God her Saviour." 

Here the worthy man drew the back of his hand across 
his face, to brush away the big tears that had gushed forth 
at the remembrance of his departed wife. 

He then continued — " Yes, Elizabeth has done much for 
us. It was she that first tore from me the belief that, if 
saved at all, I should be saved by such a display of divine 
sovereignty as would supersede all necessity of personal 
effort, on my part, to obtain salvation ; she tore from 
me this broken reed upon which I was leaning. It was 
she that brought me fully to see myself as a sinner, stand- 
ing on the brink of ruin, and needing an infinite Saviour. 
It was she that first taught me to see the excellencies of 
that invaluable treasure, the Prayer Book — the book next, 
in my mind, to the Bible. Its prayers have not only 



60 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The burial service. 

kelped my devotions, but have taught me how to live ; and 
in some measure, I hope, prepared me to die. 

" Yes, she taught me to love the Prayer Book ; and I 
thank my God that I know something of its worth. I find 
I can in no other way get so far into the porch of Heaven, 
as with its words in my mouth, and its sentiments glowing 
in my heart." 

My friend would have continued his conversation, but 
we had now already entered the gate of the burial ground ; 
and the moment had arrived, when one of the most im- 
pressive offices of that liturgy, which he had been so highly 
eulogizing, was to commence. 

The ground allotted to the dead, was guarded from the 
unhallowed tread of beasts, by a strong enclosure. The 
spot was some distance from the road. 

Near the gate of the graveyard there was a cluster of 
tall pines. As the coffin passed beneath them, their waving 
tops seemed to utter a plaintive sigh. The tread of the 
long procession seemed to be noiseless. All were moving 
on, pensive and silent. 

But the stillness of the surrounding scene was now, per- 
haps, to many who were then present, unexpectedly inter- 
rupted by the sound of these words : " I am the resurrec- 
tion and the life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever 
liveth and believeth in me shall never die." 

There was something in these words, connected with the 
place where they were uttered, that seemed to send a thrill 
through every heart in the procession. The sound of these 
words died away on the air, and then we moved on a few 
paces in silence. 

The silence was soon again interrupted by this solemn 
declaration of Job : " I know that my Redeemer liveth, 
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth : 
and though after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in 
my flesh *hall I see God, whom I shall see for myself, and 
mine eyes si; all behold, and not another." 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 61 

Decorums of burial. 

We had by this time arrived at the grave. I perceived, 
from the plain stone that was set up to inform the stranger 
what dust mouldered beneath it, that the grave of Elizabeth 
M'Ellen was dug by the side of her husband's. No delay 
was occasioned by opening the coffin. The descendants 
of the deceased had taken their last look of their mother 
before she was brought into the open air ; and they revolted 
at the idea of exposing her corpse, at the grave, to the gaze 
of a promiscuous multitude. This custom, even now 
almost universally prevalent in the country, appears to me 
to be among the remains of barbarism, and must ever shock 
the feelings of refined sensibility. 

The coffin was immediately placed upon two spades, 
which were laid transversely over the grave. 

The mourners gathered around, and there seemed much 
in the following sentences that were rehearsed, to compose 
the feelings, and prepare the minds of all for the scene that 
was to succeed. 

" Man that is born of a woman, hath but a short time 
to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut 
doivn like a flower. He fleet h as it were a shadow, and 
never continueth in one stay." 

" In the midst of life we are in death : Of whom may 
we seek for succour but of thee, Lord, who for our 
shis art justly displeased. 11 

"Vet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O 
holy and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the 
bitter pains of eternal death. 11 

When these sentences had been rehearsed, the coffin was 
let down into the grave. The eyes of all the M'Ellen 
family were dim with tears ; but they followed the descend- 
ing coffin down to its deep and dark resting place. There 
was no loud wailing — no affected grief — no mockery of wo. 
It was nature yearning over the grave of one that was ten- 
derly loved. Nature bid them weep : but their eyes glis- 
tened with hope, even while they were filled with tears. 
They looked away from the grave up to that heavenly 

6 



62 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Act of interment. 

country, where they had every reason to believe the soul 
of their departed mother was resplendent, as a star in the 
firmament of heaven. 

If the heart of one spectator remained untouched by the 
solemnities that had been already witnessed, surely it must 
have relented when the spade was thrust into the earth, 
and the solemn act of interment pronounced : 

" Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God, in his 
wise providence, to take out of this world the soul of our 
deceased sister, we therefore commit her body to the 
ground; earth to earth'''' — at the repetition of each of 
these words, the clod fell from the spade upon the coffin 
lid — " ashes to ashes, dust to dust : looking for the gene- 
ral resurrection in the last day, and the life of the world 
to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ ; at whose second 
coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth 
and the sea shall give up their dead; and the corruptible 
bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed and 
made like unto his own glorious body, according to the 
mighty workings, whereby he is able to subdue all things 
unto himself" 

The rubric that is placed immediately after the act of 
interment in the burial service directs that the passage 
from Revelations, there inserted, shall be said or sung. 

The worthy old man w T ho walked by my side to the 
grave, as I afterwards learned, had the ordering of the 
funeral ; and he had made arrangement to have that pas- 
sage sung. I was ignorant of this arrangement. When, 
therefore, he and those that were around him struck into 
a chant, and in loud thrilling notes rehearsed that sublime 
passage, " I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, 
— Write, from henceforth blessed are the dead that die in 
the Lord ; even so, saith the Spirit, for they rest from 
their labours," — I felt almost overpowered by the unex- 
pectedness and fine effect of the performance. 

There was something truly touching in this scene. A 
arge concourse of people were gathered around the remains 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 63 

Singing at the grave. 

of an aged and deceased Christian. The coffin had been 
let down into the grave, and they were standing ovei it. 
They were away from any human habitation but the habi- 
tation of the dead. Their heads were uncovered, and the 
white locks of many a way-worn pilgrim showed tha* 
Elizabeth M'Ellen would soon be followed by some that 
were standing in that crowd. They were now in the act 
of praising God, and pouring out the pious emotions of 
their soul in the language of one of Zion's sacred songs. 

There is something peculiarly tender in the strains of 
vocal music, breathed forth in the open air, and among the 
graves of the dead. And on the present occasion a gentle 
gust of wind every now and then swept by, and seemed to 
float the sweet and mellow voices of the singers up to 
heaven. 

The following verses, from one of our hymns, v/ere 
then read and sung : — 

Thy children, panting to be gone, 

May bid the tide of time roll on, 

To land them on that happy shore, 

Where years and death are known no more! 

No more fatigue — no more distress- 
Nor sin, nor hell, shall reach that place ; 
No groans to mingle with the songs 
Resounding from immortal tongues. 

No more alarms from ghostly foes — 
No cares to break the long repose ; 
No midnight shade — no clouded sun — 
But sacred, high eternal noon. 

O long-expected year ! begin ; 
Dawn on this world of wo and sin ; 
Fain would we leave this weary road, 
To sleep in death, and rest -with God. 

As soon as the service at the grave was completed, and 
the procession began to march back in the same order that 
it had left the house, my aged friend again joined me, and 
renewed the former conversation. 



64 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Return from the burial ground. 

"How solemn," said he, "is this service; it always 
p fleets me more than the best funeral sermon. As I was 
saying to you, that departed saint, Elizabeth M'-Ellen, has 
cone much for us. She was a pattern of all that was excellent. 

u For more than sixty years she had been a pious ser- 
vant of God, and worthy member of the church of Christ. 
But she placed no confidence in all she had done. She 
was the most humble woman I ever saw. Often have I 
heard her say, that every year she lived, she saw more and 
more need of a Saviour. Every part of the Prayer Book 
was familiar to her, and her knowledge of the evil of sin, 
and of the proneness of human nature to err, made her 
often turn to dwell upon this part of the general confession : 

" » I have left undone those things which I ought to 
have done ; and I have done those things which 1 ought 
not to have done, and there is no health in me.' 

" In the latter part of her life, she spent much of her 
time in prayer ; and, as I have been told by her son, when 
alone, she would often repeat aloud this petition from the 
burial service : 

" ' O holy and merciful Saviour, thou most worthy 
Judge eternal, suffer me not, at my last hour, for any pains 
of death, to fall from thee.' Her prayer was granted, and 
she has gone home to glory." 

The distance, as I have already remarked, from the burial 
ground to Robert M'Ellen's house was about a quarter of 
a mile. The procession returned to the house with the same 
slow pace that they had observed in going to the place of 
the dead. The bearers on our return walked immediately 
in our rear. At length one of them, a silver-headed and 
venerable looking man, who had evidently been listening 
with deep interest to the conversation, we had had in going 
to, and from, the grave, parts of which only he had caught, 
stepped forward, and walking abreast with the other aged 
friend and myself, remarked — 

" No one has more reason to remember this aged sain! 
than I." 



THE M'ELLEN FAMILY. 65 



Conversion of an aged sinner. 



" I believe that she proved a blessing to all who came 
within the range of her influence," I replied. 

44 Yes, she did — she did," he responded, with emphasis: 
— " I lived to be an aged and gray-headed sinner, before 
my hard and impenitent heart was opened to receive the 
truth," he continued ; and as he spoke emotion was visible 
upon every line of his countenance : — " I prided myself 
upon my honesty, and was vainly expecting to go to 
heaven on the ground of my good works. I seldom used 
to attend public worship ; for the fact was, I did not enjoy 
myself there. The prayers and preaching always seemed 
very dull and tedious to me. One day, about four years ago, 
hearing Elizabeth M'Ellen was ill, I called to see her. I 
found her better than I expected. She received me with 
her usual kindness and affection. In the course of the 
conversation she complained of her eyes being affected, so 
that she could hardly read. She asked me if I would not 
read a few verses for her. Among others was the com- 
mencement of the 14th chapter of Revelation ' And 1 
looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Zion, and 
with him an hundred and forty and four thousand, hav- 
ing his father's name ivritten in their foreheads. And 
I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, 
and as the voice of a great thunder : And J heard the 
voice of harpers, harping with their harps: And they 
sung as it were a new song before the throne. 1 — Here 
Elizabeth suddenly interrupted my reading, and fixing her 
eyes upon me with an expression I shall never forget, said, 

" ' Mr. B tell me, do you think you could be happy 

with that company on mount Zion ? Do you love to pray 
and praise God ? I believe you seldom go to church, though 
you have health and strength to do so. Now if we have 
no relish for praising God here, how can this employment 
TQake us happy in heaven V 

This question was like a dagger to my heart. I went 
m.me, and thought much about it. I could not rest — I 
could not sleep. The more I looked into my own heart, 

6* 



66 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Concluding reflections. 

the more I saw I had no qualifications to fit me for the soci- 
ety, or the enjoyments of heaven. I cried unto the Lord, 
and he had mercy on me even in my old age. I now know 
what it is to love to pray. 1 hope one day to join in that 
new song which they sing before the thione." 

We had now reached the house, and I was obliged to 
take an immediate departure. 

As I turned from this funeral scene, and hastened on my 
way to a station where 1 had an appointment to preach the 
same evening, the remarks of an eminent servant of God 
occurred to me, which he offered just after describing the 
interment of the mortal part of one of God's people : 

" We committed our dear sister's body to the earth, in 
hope of a joyful resurrection from the dead. Thus was 
the veil of separation drawn for a season. She is departed 
and no more seen. But she will be seen on the right hand 
o( her Redeemer at the last day ; and will again appear, to 
his glory, a miracle of grace, and monument of mercy."* 

And I may now with propriety add, transcribing from 
the same page — " My reader, shall you and I appear there 
likewise ? Are we « clothed with humility,' and arrayed 
in the wedding garment of a Redeemer's righteousness ? 
Are we turned from idols to serve the living God ? Are we 
sensible of our own emptiness, and therefore flying to a 
Saviour's fulness to obtain grace and strength ? Do we 
indeed live in Christ, and on him, and by him, and with 
him ? Is he over all, and in all ? Are we ' lost and found' — 
dead and alive again? If, through grace, thou dost love 
and serve the Redeemer that saved Elizabeth M'Ellen, 
grace, peace, and mercy be with thee ! The lines are fallen 
unto thee in pleasant places ; thou hast a goodly heritage. 
Press forward in duty and wait upon the Lord, possessing 
thy soul in holy patience. Thou hast just been with me 
to the grave of a departed believer. Now ' go thy way 
till the end be ; for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at 
the end of the days.' " 

* Legh Richmond. In the tract entitled " The Dairyman* t 

Daughter." 



THE 



PARALYTIC. 



CHAPTER I. 

AFFLICTION. 



Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wing* 
•>f a dove, covered will) silver, and her feathers with yellow gold. 

From the 68th Psalm. 

Among all the unerring declarations contained in the 
volume of sacred truth, I know of none in stricter unison 
with the principles of eternal verity, than that " the wisdom 
of the world is foolishness with God. 1 '' Upon the principles 
of worldly wisdom, that which is most desirable and most 
essential to human happiness, is ease of circumstances, and 
exemption from calamity of every sort. If the evils of 
life did not flow unavoidably as effects from human con- 
duct — if men were left with the power of deciding, by the 
mere efforts of their will, what should be their lot from day 
to day, I suppose there would be no sickness, sorrow, suf- 
fering, disappointment, nor calamity in this world, however 
much sin there might be. This attempt to throw oft" the 
present effects of moral evil, while the cause is still retained 
and cherished, is a fair specimen and striking illustration 
of the wisdom of this world. 

And were it possible to give reality to this great deside- 
ratum in human life, what would be the consequence ? 
Unquestionably, total forgetfulness of God, entire estrange- 
ment from him, increased attachment to the world, and 

67 



68 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The designs of Providence. 

utter inattention to all preparation for a future and subse- 
quent state of being. 

It is very possible that some of our readers may not be 
prepared to admit the correctness of the preceding conclu- 
sion. In the blindness of their heart, and the ignorance 
of their mind, they may think, that if the bright rays of 
prosperity were unceasingly to shine upon their path, and 
no clouds ever to obscure their sky, they would be irresist- 
ibly drawn by considerations of gratitude to the love and 
service of their Creatoi 

Truly, in reference to this subject, " God's thoughts are 
not as our thoughts, nor his ways as our ways : For as 
the heavens are higher than the earth, so are his ways 
higher than our ways, and his thoughts than our 
thought s. 11 And in reference to the various afflictive dis- 
pensations of his providence, and to the bearings which 
those dispensations have upon the moral character and 
spiritual interests of individuals, it may with great justness 
be said, " that the foolishness of God is iviser than men. 11 

It is believed that in the narrative to which the reader's 
attention is about to be called, he will see an exemplification 
of the truth and correctness of several of the foregoing 
observations. I would here, however, offer the passing 
remark, that in all the inquiries which we institute in refer- 
ence to the divine dealings with ourselves or others, affect- 
ing our present happiness, we should ever start with these 
two divinely revealed principles, as the foundation of all 
our reasoning : — That the Lord doth not afflict willingly, 
or grieve the children of men. And that often, His way 
is in the sea, and his path in the great waters, and his foot- 
steps are not known. 

The design of every affliction is not immediately appa- 
rent ; but the admitted principle — that it did not spring from 
the dust — that it came from God — and that he never afflicts 
willingly, will lead us to wait, in humble faith and perfect 
submission, till that design comes to be unveiled. 

The object, therefore, I have in view, in directing the 



THE PARALYTIC. GO 



The uncertainty of the future, 



reader's attention to the sorrows and sad reverses which 
mark the history of this poor paralytic, is 

"To assert eternal Providence, 

And justify the ways of God to man." 

The hope is cherished that these pages will convey light 
and comfort to some sorrowing heart — that they will prompt 
some, who are bowed down with grief, to pluck blessings 
from a smiting hand — that they will constrain the sons and 
daughters of affliction, into whose hands they shall fall, 
to look up amid all their sorrows, with an eye of adoring 
love, to that great and glorious Sovereign who reigns among 
the inhabitants of the earth as well as in the armies of 
heaverf. 

The afflicted eastern patriarch, when in the midst of his 
sorrows turning his thoughts back upon the bright, sunny 
spots of his past existence, remarks in relation to one of 
those periods, Then I said I shall die in my nest, and 
shall multiply my days as the sand. My root was spread 
out by the waters, and the dew lay all night upon my 
branch. My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was 
renewed in my hand. 

As I have sat in the midst of a happy family, and beheld 
the fond parents eyeing, with evident emotions of delight, 
the interesting group that were " like olive branches around 
their table," I have often thought, « How little does that 
kind mother know the ills and reverses which await that 
child over which for many long years she has watched 
with so much tenderness and affection !' 

And so when I have seen the young of either sex leav- 
ing the paternal roof where were passed the days of their 
childhood, and those early sunny years when the heart is 
free from care, I have been led to remark, ' How little can 
these young buoyant spirited beings calculate what will be 
their future lot!' 

John Lewson, the subject of the present brief memoir 
Was a native of Philadelphia. His parents were highly 



70 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



John Lawson. Early life. 



respectable people, and disposed to gratify their children in 
all their wishes. John had the advantage of the best 
instructors until he was ten years old. Whether his parents 
at that time were removed from him, or lost their property, 
I have never been able to ascertain. At all events he then 
ceased going to school ; and taking it into his head that he 
should like a sailor's life, he was gratified in tins wish, and 
in a few months found himself on the broad expanded 
ocean, with nothing but sea and sky around him. He soon 
became greatly attached to this mode of life, and pursued it 
for seven years. During that period he made many voy- 
ages, passed through many dangers, and learnt much evil. 
Upon the breaking out of the war between this country 
and Great Britain in 1812, he determined to relinquish the 
seafaring life, and seek some avocation on land, by which 
he could obtain a respectable subsistence. He accordingly 
directed his course to New York, as the great metropolis 
of the Union. He was still but a youth, and the future 
appeared to him full of hope and brightness. He was 
willing to engage in any business from which he could 
derive a respectable livelihood. A good opportunity pre- 
senting, and some strong inducements being held out, he 
apprenticed himself to a respectable gentleman in the slat- 
ing business. With him he continued until he had served 
his time, and became an expert and accomplished slater. 
His master still retained him in his employ as a journey- 
man, and at length sent him to Newbern, N. C, where 
his family resided. There young Lewson became acquaint- 
ed with his employer's family, and ere he was aware of it 
found his feelings deeply interested in Clara Ann, a favour- 
ite daughter with her father. He did not stop to think of 
the difficulties that stood in the way, but pressed forward, 
until every obstacle was removed, and he found himself the 
happy husband of one worthy of his affections. She had 
been reared up with great tenderness and delicacy, and, as 
was the custom in her native town, had been attended by 
slaves, whose business it was to minister to her every want 



THE PARALYTIC 71 



Residence in New York. Exposure. 



Never till she left the home of her childhood had she put 
her hand to household work, or been cumbered with care 
of any kind. 

After their marriage they went to New York, where 
Lewson commenced business, and supported his family with 
ease, in a respectable manner. They lived well, but did 
not lay aside any thing- against a time of need, little think- 
ing their prospects would so soon change. And they were 
no less improvident about laying up treasures in heaven, 
than unmindful in reference to making any provision against 
a reverse of circumstances. 

Mr. Lewson, after having been brought through the deep 
waters, and led to review this period of his life, remarked 
in relation to it : "At this time the things of religion were 
altogether neglected. We occasionally went to a place of 
worship, but it was from custom, or for fashion's sake. It 
was but seldom that I indulged in any thoughts of a future 
state. Sometimes, however, such thoughts would come 
into my mind, particularly when I passed a church or grave- 
yard, or heard the bell ring. These things would then 
sometimes strike upon my heart, and lead me to think of 
death, and the unknown realities beyond. But these reflec- 
tions were painful : they filled me with melancholy fore- 
bodings, and to escape from them, I sought to have my 
whole attention engrossed by my business ; and this proved 
but too successful an expedient in banishing them." 

It was while living in this state of alienation and forget- 
fulness of God, that a circumstance, which at the time 
appeared trifling, involved this family in irrecoverable dis- 
aster. One day being employed in putting a slate roof on 
a house, the weather became unfavourable. A drizzling rain 
came on, and rendered it imprudent and unsafe for him to 
continue at his business. But being anxious to fulfil his 
engagement, he continued his work, not regarding his situa- 
tion, which was directly under the projecting eaves of an 
adjoining building. The constant dripping from this wet 
him through ami through ; and that very night he had a vio- 



72 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Attack of palsy. Rebellious feeling. 

lent attack of palsy. He was completely benumbed, unable 
to move, and confined to his bed for many months. Days 
of suffering and nights of weariness were then appointed 
him ; but no cheering prospect — no whisper of mercy came 
to pour its consoling balm into his bosom, because he 
turned away from the only one who could have relieved 
him — the Physician of souls. When he had so far recover- 
ed as to be able to sit up, he was urged to try the country 
air. He accordingly removed with his family to Newark, 
where they remained some year and a half. But not de- 
riving the anticipated benefit from this change of residence, 
and feeling lonely and desolate among strangers, he with 
his family returned to the city. By this time their money 
was expended. Indeed, before this, they had been obliged 
to part with some of their furniture to bear their expenses. 
This they continued to do until all was gone. Even their 
clothing went to procure food. 

Mr. Lewson at length recovered sufficient strength to 
walk with difficulty. About this time a gentleman, com- 
passionating his forlorn condition, presented him with a 
quantity of little books and tracts. He carried these about 
the streets in a basket, offering them for sale. He would 
in this way get a sixpence or more in the course of the fore- 
noon, and thus made out to subsist without being reduced 
to the necessity of begging. In a short time, however, 
another paralytic attack unfitted him for this, or any other 
employment. 

All this time, so far from looking up to God for comlort, 
his heart was full of rebellion, and constantly inclined tc 
murmur at the divine dealings. " I do not see," he would 
say, " why I am thus severely dealt with. Certainly I am 
quite as good as my neighbours. I have never injured any 
one. I have always done my duty. I am sure I have 
uever done any thing to merit such punishment as this." 

When at length his wife was able to procure work, and 
he saw her toiling night and day to earn bread for himself 
and children, all the feelings of his nature were stirred 



THE PARALYTIC. 73 



Mercy of God. Kind friends. 



within him, and he shed bitte : tears over what he called 
their hard lot. 

But all this bitter trial was necessary to subdue and 
soften his heart. The Lord even now was looking upon 
him in kindness. He raised up for this family a kind friend 

in Miss H , who was untiring in her efforts to procure 

relief for them. But for her assiduous attention, and per- 
severing importunity among her friends, this family must 
have suffered and perhaps perished during several long and 
severe winters. They were absolutely without food, fuel, 
or clothing, save what came to them through this channel. 
The Lord, however, was overruling all this. In her benevo- 
lent efforts for this family, Miss H communicated the 

story of their sufferings to Miss T , a young lady 

whose heart, imbued with the love of Jesus, was prepared 
to be touched with sympathy for the sufferings of her fel- 
low men, and ardently b^nt upon relieving them. Divine 
Providence had conferred upon her many and signal bless- 
ings. She belonged to a family of wealth and influence. 
She had the entire control of her time, and ample pecuniary 
means to relieve the necessitous and distressed. Though 
young, accomplished, and interesting, she sought not her 
happiness in the circles of fashion and gayety, but in the 
hovels of the poor, where, like a ministering angel, she 
went from cellar to cellar, on an errand of mercy, imparting 
relief and comfort to the children of wretchedness and wo. 

But it was to the souls of her fellow beings that she 
chiefly sought to do good. And the judgment hour alone 
will reveal the multitude that through her kind instrumental- 
ity were tvrned from the darkness of sin to the light of 

God's glorious truth. No sooner was Miss T made 

acquainted with the situation and circumstances of this 
family, than she took them under her especial care and su- 
perintendence. While from week to week she sought to 
relieve their bodily wants, she sought still more earnestly 
to bring spiritual relief to their souls. She told them of the 
blessed Comforter — of Jesus the friend of sinners, and of 

7 



74 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Christian solicitude. Long walk. 

the bread which cometh down from above. Her sensibili 
ties were all awake in their behalf. At length, after having 
some time sought to lead them to Christ, she came to hei 
pastor to go and visit this family. At this time they lived 
in a remote part of the town. I have never, however, 
since regretted the long walk I was obliged to take to see 
this family, nor the occasion which first brought me ac- 
quainted with them 



THE PARALYTIC. 7* 



Miss T 's first acquaintance with Mr. I, w 



CHAPTER II. 

DIVINE RENEWAL. 

. ." For what was call'd 

Affliction brought an evidence of love. 
It came disguised in sorrow's livery, 
But it threw oft* her borrowed garb, and lo ! 
The white rob'd angel of celestial love, 
With her sweet influence was there. She still'd 
His troubled thoughts, open'd his blinded heart, 
And led him out beyond the changing earth; 
And pointed up to the eternal Mind, 
That taketh knowledge of a sparrow's fall, 
And lights a world with glory ; that will hear 
A sigh's low music 'mid the swelling praise 
Which rushes upward from a thousand realms." 

Previous to my giving an account Of my first interview 
with this family, I will transcribe a part of a letter which 

I received from Miss T , in answer to some inquiries 

I had made in reference to them. 

" My dear sir, — I rejoice that the thought suggested in 
your note has been put into your heart, and I am equally 
glad of the request you made of me ; for, although I can 
add but very little, if any, to the stock of information you 
already possess on this subject, yet I am conscious that 
the recollection of the Lord's dealings with that family will 
be very beneficial to my own soul. And I should probably 
never have traced the leadings of Providence in this in- 
stance, had I not been in this way called to it. 

It was a comfortless afternoon in the winter of 1825. The 

snow was falling fast, when Miss H called for me to 

visit, with her, a poor family, who had lately come under hei 
notice. We found them in a dark, damp cellar in Wash 



I 



7Q GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Extreme poverty. 

ington-street, in the most deplorable state. Mr. Lewson 
was lying on the bed, with his back towards us ; nor did 
he notice us at all. It seemed as if he wanted to hide 
himself from human sight. Never before had I witnessed 
such absolute poverty, (since then I have), nor ever seen 
such despair and wo depicted upon any countenance as on 
that of Mrs. L . The tears flowed without inter- 
mission, while, with great modesty, she made known their 
destitute situation. And the feeling of her heart was, 
though but half expressed, ' We shall never have comfort 
more.'' And alas, she had no bright inheritance to which 
she could direct the eye of faith in a world to come. In 
her I saw literally fulfilled, the melancholy state of those 
described by the apostle, ' having no hope, and without 
God in the world.' I have often been led to contrast their 
wretchedness and despondency at this time with the clean- 
liness, neatness, and comfort which marked their little 
room at our last interview with them, and I could not but 
remark with the young cottager, ' Blest religion, by which 
we nve with comfort, as well as with comfort die.' " 

1 have introduced this extract to give the reader some 
faint idea of the abject misery to which this family were 
now reduced. It was more than three years subsequent to 
the date adverted to in this letter, when I paid my first 
visit to them. Their condition was somewhat improved ; 
but when it is recollected, that they subsisted entirely upon 
charity, it will excite no surprise when I say that every 
thing around them indicated extreme poverty. Mr. Lewson 
was now rather more comfortable, and through the unwea- 
ried efforts of the two benevolent females whom I have 
mentioned, had begun to consider his own ways, and the 
meaning of God's dealings with him. He said but little, 
though he listened attentively to the conversation I address- 
ed to him. It seemed as though his heart had just begun 
to relent and soften, though there was evidently much 
rebellion and darkness in it still. 



THE PARALYTIC. 77 



The designs of God in affliction. 



I endeavoured to impress upon his mind the solemn 
conviction, that all his afflictions had come from God — that 
the Almighty was taking this method to save his soul — 
that, therefore, in this series of calamities that had over- 
taken him, God had manifested far more kindness, than if 
lie had allowed him to glide on smoothly down the stream 
of prosperity ; but that these afflictions, so far from doing 
him any good, would only increase his guilt, and deepen 
his eternal damnation, if he was not led by them to throw 
down the weapons of his rebellion, and surrender himself 
into the hands of God. 

I assured him that as long as he continued to dictate, and 
murmur, and find fault, the hand of God would continue to 
lie heavy upon him — that he must submit, and be willing 
that God should reign, and dispose of all things according 
to the counsel of his own will — that if he would only open 
his eyes upon his own sinfulness, and be humbled under 
the view of it — if he would only fly to the foot of the cross, 
and fix the streaming eye of faith and penitence upon the 
Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, 
peace and comfort would dawn upon his troubled soul ! 

To these words he listened with great attention and with 
evident symptoms of feeling. After looking up to the 
eternal throne, in prayer, for a divine blessing, I took my 
leave. This, like a hundred other families whom I had 
occasionally visited, was not under my parochial care ; and 
as my time was completely occupied with the duties of my 
own charge, several months passed away before I heard 
any thing more of them. My young friend, who watched 
over this family from week to week, and hailed with de- 
light every indication of seriousness, thus writes in refer- 
ence to the effect of that first visit, and the early steps by 
which Mr. Lewson's mind was led to lay hold of the things 
of eternity. 

" That was a very memorable era in the history of their 
religious experience, when the minister of the Lord Jesua 

7* 



75 FATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The workings of the Holy Spirit. 

first visited them, and warned them of their danger while 
impenitent, and in a pointed manner set before them their 
duty. That first conversation, sir, you are best acquainted 
with. I know nothing of it except from its results. He 
became from that time more serious and thoughtful. He 
began to read his Bible and to pray. Previous to this he 
had met with a hymn beginning, 

' And must this body die V 

which took a hold on his mind, and occasioned him 
some anxious thoughts. This paved the way for his ready 
reception of your advice. He seemed to feel that he was 
laid by from work, and had this time allowed him, that he 
might have opportunity to seek the salvation of his soul. 
As soon as he was made sensible of this, he set about the 
work in good earnest. Aided by the enlightening influence 
of the Holy Spirit, he soon was made sensible of his lost 
condition as a sinner. The more he searched the Scrip- 
tures to discover the will of God, the more he saw he had 
broken his law. Thus a deep conviction of guilt fastened 
upon his mind. He saw himself justly exposed to eternal 
punishment : and not understanding the glorious plan of 
salvation through free grace, he almost gave up all hope of 
heaven. For nine months he remained in this wretched 
state. Gradually his attention was turned to the sufferings 
and death of Christ, as an atonement for sin. This Saviour 
was now the desire of his heart. To him his longing eyes 
were turned, and he gave himself up to an eager pursuit 
of him. 

" And, said he, subsequently speaking of the divine deal- 
ings with him at this time — < The Lord gave me such a 
view of the all-sufficiency of his sacrifice, that I thought if 
I could only have one drop of that precious blood applied 
to me, it would wash away all my sin, and I should then be 
happy.' 

" As he continued diligently to read the word of God 
with earnest prayer for divine illumination and guidance. 



THE PARALYTIC. 78 



Happy change. 



his knowledge increased, his faith was strengthened, and a 
light shone upon the path that led him to the Lamb. The 
gloom and darkness which had overshadowed him, vanished. 
Hope sprung up, and he began to lean more and more upon 
the divine promises, till one day, in reading the tract, " Do 
you want a friend?''' he was enabled to embrace the Lord 
Jesus fully as the friend of his soul, as his advocate with 
the Father ; and venturing upon his faithfulness, confiding 
in his promises, he cast himself, as one guilty and perish- 
ing, at his feet, and was filled with joy and peace in 
believing. 

" Great indeed was the change now wrought. His very 
countenance indicated the emotions of his soul, for it was 
peaceful and happy, glowing with gratitude and love, while 
deep humility marked his whole deportment, and devout 
thanksgiving dwelt upon his tongue. 'Praised be the 
Lord,' said he, * for his great goodness. 0, 1 am not worthy 
of this mercy. But he hath not dealt with me according 
to my sins. No. He has remembered mercy. Though 
he was angry with me, his anger is turned away. And 
through the blessed Saviour I am now enabled to look up to 
him, as my reconciled Father. O ! I will always speak 
well of his name.' 

" Some days after this he remarked, * Now I see how 
it was-— I have been wandering in the paths that lead to 
eternal death. In the time of my prosperity I forgot the 
Lord. While I could attend to my business, I gave my 
whole attention to it. While I could enjoy the world, I 
endeavoured to satisfy myself with it. And I should have 
gone on in this course, and perished for ever, had not my 
heavenly Father in great love sent this heavy affliction. ! 
I regard this sickness, and the destitution and wretchedness 
consequent upon it, as the greatest blessings of my life. 
For they have been the means of bringing me to the know- 
ledge of myself. And, like the prodigal, I have now come 
back, and instead of seeking the riches of earth, my only 
aim henceforth shall be to lay up treasure in heaven.' " 



80 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The path of duty. 



CHAPTER III. 

COVENANT DEDICATION. 

" Tis done, the great transaction's done, 
Deign, gracious Lord, to make me thine ; 
Help me, through grace, to follow on, 
Glad to confess thy voice divine. 

" High heaven, that heard the solemn vow, 
That vow renew'd shall daily hear, 
Till in life's latest hour I bow, 

And bless in death a bond so dear." 

When the Spirit of God has brought a sinner to a 
knowledge of the truth, as it is in Jesus, that individual 
cannot be at ease or inactive. He will continually present 
himself before the divine throne, with the inquiry, " Lord, 
what wilt thou have me to do ?" and whatever path of 
duty is indicated, he will cheerfully enter upon it. 

Shortly after this decided change wrought in Mr. Lew- 
son, a tract on the subject of baptism was put into his 
hands. As he had not received baptism in infancy, this 
tract suggested matter for serious consideration. He deter- 
mined to examine the subject by the light of God's word. 
His earnest desire was to know and follow the will of the 
Lord in this and every other matter. In communicating 
his views, after this examination, to a friend one morning, 
he said, " I have no farther doubts on this point. In the 
Scriptures of truth, I read, that the Lord Jesus, in sending 
out the first preachers of the gospel, said, « Go ye, and 
teach all nations, baptizing them.' When the apostles 
began to preach, « they that heard the word, and believed, 
were baptized: And O, how interesting is the eunueh'p 



THE PARALYTIC. 81 



Baptism. Appearance of the Paralytic. 

baptism by Philip ! I see plainly it is my duty to confess 
Christ in this holy ordinance, and I shall account it a great 
privilege to be thus admitted into Christ's visible church. 
And most gladly will I dedicate my children to him in this 
holy rite." 

From the time of his forming this resolution, he applied 
himself to the work of self-examination. He faithfully 
searched the ground of his heart, and earnestly prayed that 
the grace of God might accompany this sacrament : for he 
wished not only to receive the washing of water, but also 
" the renewing of the Holy Ghost." 

About this time I again visited him. He appeared like 
another man, so marked and manifest was the change, in 
the whole train of his thinking, and the whole style of his 
conversation. 

There was now one striking feature in his character, 
which I have often observed in cases of genuine conver- 
sion. He had become like a little child. His ear was open 
to instruction, and he was willing to do every thing which 
God required. 

The duty and privilege of baptism having been explained, 
a day was appointed for the administration of that holy 
ordinance. 

I have witnessed so many such scenes, that when I un- 
dertook to recall this, there were no vivid impressions of it 
upon my mind, save the appearance of the unsteady, shak- 
ing frame of the poor paralytic, as he attempted to kneel 
down to receive the baptismal waters. There was some- 
thing inexpressibly tender and touching in that appearance. 
At the time it reminded me of those who had the palsy, 
that came to the feet of Jesus, and were healed. This 
quaking, unsteady movement of the kneeling paralytic was 
all I could remember. I therefore applied to the friend 
whose pen has already furnished several of the preceding 
sketches in relation to this family, for her recollections of 
the scene. And I shall finish this account of the baptism 
by the insertion of the answer that I re< nved. 



82 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Preparations for baptism. 

" Dear Sir, — I will endeavour to comply witii y ,at 

request, in relation to the baptism of Mr. L , so far 

as to recall, by the mention of a circumstance or two, the 
scene to your mind. 

" You will recollect that the day appointed for the ad 
ministration of this ordinance proved to be cloudy and wet, 
on which account the family, not expecting us, were scat- 
tered. Upon our arrival the eldest boy was sent after his 
little sister. She came home crying from disappointment, 
that her visit at some neighbouring house should have 
been so suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted. You 
called the child to you, and asked her, 

" ' Is it not better, my dear, for you to receive a blessing 
from heaven, and be dedicated to God, who alone can make 
you truly happy, than to have spent the whole day in play?' 

" This soothed her instantly. Yon then said, 

" ' Do you not want to be a good girl, and be made the 
child of God, and learn to love him V 

" She softly answered, ' Yes, sir,' then quietly took her 
seat. By this time the babe had been washed and dressed, 
the water prepared, and Miss H had arrived. 

" During these preparations Mr. L sat very silent, 

apparently engaged in deep inward reflection and prayer. 
Indeed his whole behaviour throughout was marked with 
an air of great solemnity, as though he really felt that he 
was engaged in a transaction with the Most High. 

" All things being arranged, the door was closed, and we 
waited for the solemn service to begin. Methinks I have 
it all before me as clearly as then, and my heart even now 
thrills with emotion, as I view the scene. There, secluded 
from the world — retired from the busy pursuits of men, the 
soul was made to come closely in contact with religion, and 
to feel its soiemn reality. While in view of the holy ordi- 
nance about to be administered, I could not but adore that 
matchless wisdom which devised the mighty plan of man's 
recovery ; and the exceeding riches of that grace, which 
had thus provided a way for the return of the wanderer 



THE PARALYTIC. 83 



The baptismal vow. 



by which he could now be adopted into that family of God 
from which he had been an outcast, and restored to all the 
privileges of his dear child. 

" While indulging in this train of thoughts, the minister 
commenced, and proceeded without interruption. When 
the first question was put, 

" * Dost thou renounce the devil, and all his works, the 
vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires 
of the same, and the sinful desires of the flesh ; so that 
thou wilt not follow nor be led by them,' instead of a 
simple assent which was all that I expected from Mr. 

L , I was delighted to hear him repeat in a subdued, 

but a very resolute tone, — 

" ' I renounce them all, and by God's help will endea- 
vour not to follow nor be led by them.' 

44 When required to answer to the following, 

44 4 Wilt thou then obediently keep God's holy will and 
commandments, and walk in the same all the days of thy 
life ?' — he closed his eyes, as if imploring strength from 
above for the fulfilment of this mighty requirement, then 
firmly replied — 

44 4 1 wilt, by God's help. 1 

44 O how fervently did we all join in the petitions 
which followed, especially 4 that the old man might be 
buried — that all sinful affections might die in them, and 
that they might have power and strength to have victory, 
and to triumph' over all their spiritual enemies. When 
the water was poured on his forehead in that holy name, 
and he declared a member of Christ's church, the humility, 
penitence, and self-abasement which characterized his 
whole deportment, and were visible in his countenance, 
indicated more truly and eloquently than words, the real 
state of his feelings. 

44 Then the children, one, and another, and another came 
up to the table to receive the sprinkling, and the sign of 
the cross : and last the little babe was taken from his 
mother's arms and presented to the Saviour, and enlisted 



84 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Glorified infant. Happy family. 

under his banner. That little one has been spared all con- 
flict ! It has taken its flight before us, while we must fight 

our way after. Mrs. L you know was deeply 

affected, and wept all the time. 

"As I witnessed these things I was forcibly reminded of 
the days of primitive Christianity, and of the first institution 
of baptism. I thought especially of the circle also around 
the apostle Paul on that memorable night, when the jailer, 
having heard the truth, believed and was baptized, he, and 
all his, straightway. O how many such sights must have 
delighted the eyes and encouraged the hearts of the first 
heralds of the gospel, when parents converted from hea- 
thenism gave themselves and their offspring to God ! 
This family was as striking an instance of conversion as 

those of old, for Mr. L was literally a heathen, his 

mind being wrapped in pagan darkness. 

" At the close of the service, the minister earnestly com- 
mended them to the care and guidance of heaven, and im- 
plored that they might be enabled to walk steadfastly in 
that Christian course they had now commenced. 

" We left them happy — happy in God. And as we re 
turned, I could not but reflect on that long chain of provi- 
dences which had at length produced such blessed result!. 

" Yours, &c." 






THE PARALYTIC. if 



R«T«rential views in relation to the holy supper. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE EMBLEMS OF MERCY. 

" And are we now brought near to God, 
Who once at distance stood 1 
And to effect this glorious change, 
Did Jesus shed his blood I" 

After Mr. Lewson received the ordinance of baptism, 
I visited him as often as my engagements would permit, 
and from time to time put such books into his hands as I 
thought would be useful to him. From all that I could dis- 
cover, I felt satisfied that he was growing in grace, and in 
the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 

There was one subject, however, upon which his mind 
was greatly exercised ; and in reference to which he was 
considerably agitated, until he was enabled to look at it in 
the light of God's truth, and then his mind again settled 
down into a holy calm. 

I can in no way better present this subject before the 
reader, than by here introducing an extract from a letter, 
from the same pen which has already furnished us with 
several interesting sketches. 

44 1 never knew a person who regarded the Lord's supper 

with such reverence and holy awe as Mr. L . He 

had such a sense of the responsibilities resting upon those 
who became partakers of it, as well as the qualifications 
they should possess before approaching it, that when the 
proposal was made to him, he shrunk instinctively from it, 
thinking himself uttrrly unworthy of so high and sacred 

8 



86 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Erroneous conceptions. 

an ordinance. * I dare not make so bold an approach to 
the holy Lord God as that,' said he, ' lest I should incur 
his displeasure by my presumption.' 

" You know upon what his difficulty here was founded, 
and by throwing light upon that, you removed every scru- 
ple. After his conversation with you, he told me, 4 That 
was a barrier which stopped my way completely. It was 
like a wall which I could not pass. But when I was taught 
to understand it aright, it seemed as if a mountain had 
been removed from my mind, and the way was clear for me 
to go forward.' " 

The difficulty adverted to in this letter, and which exist- 
ed in Mr. L 's mind, arose from several erroneous 

views which he was cherishing. He was looking too much 
to the work of grace within him for sources of comfort, and 
not enough to the all-sufficient sacrifice of Christ. He hau 
embraced the idea that no one should go to the table of the 
Lord, that had not arrived at great attainments in holiness 
-—that in partaking of those holy symbols, we declared that 
we verily had an undoubted assurance of our acceptance 
and final salvation. He found within him still, evil propen- 
sities and the remains of a corrupt nature, and thought that 
until these were completely extirpated he had no right to 
think of drawing near to that holy feast. He was informed, 
that one great design of this institution was to fix the be- 
liever's gaze more intensely on Christ, to prompt him to give 
himself up unreservedly into his hands ; and also that it was 
a channel which the Holy Spirit would employ to convey 
light, and strength, and comfort to the feeble, and those who 
were just starting in the way of life. In short, that the 
Lord's supper was one of the appointed means of grace, 
in which the humble and contrite sinner was to draw near 
to God, and in which God had promised to draw nigh tc 
him ; that the most devoted followers of Christ did not 
presume to approach that table, trusting in their own right- 
eousness, or feoling that they had any thing in themselves 
upon which If rely — that the most devoted followers of 



THE PARALYTIC. 87 



An answer to prayer. 



Christ, on every communion season, deeply felt that they 
were " not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs 
that fell from that table" — but yet they saw they must 
go to Christ, or perish everlastingly. In that holy ordi- 
nance they saw most affectingly exhibited a finished 
salvation, in the broken and bleeding body of their Re- 
deemer. And they went to that table to cast themselves 
upon his infinite sacrifice, and to declare that they had no 
dependanceupon any thing but that precious blood, for their 
acceptance. He was told that the true believer drew near 
that table to testify his gratitude and love to the Saviour for 
his mercy ; and that he received the symbols of that broken 
and bleeding body, as an expression on the part of Christ 
of pardon and acceptance. It was these considerations 
that relieved his mind and opened to him the path of duty. 

" Still," continues Miss T in her communication on 

this subject — "Still from week to week he delayed. One 
day— surely I can never forget it — with an overflowing heart 
and eyes sparkling with joy, he said 'now I have nothing 
more to wait for. I have been long praying that I might 
be able to say, as for me and my house we ivill serve the 
Lord. These prayers have been heard and answered ; for 
my dear wife has come to him, devoted herself to his service, 
and desires with me, to seal her vows at this holy feast.' 

" I turned to her. She instantly burst into tears, say- 
ing * O, how stupid have I hitherto been. I am astonished 
at the forbearance of God. How long has he borne with 
my rebellion ? I am ashamed and confounded when I think 
that my whole life has been wasted, while I have been 
standing unconcerned upon the brink of ruin. But now 
my eyes are opened. My heart has been touched — my 
one purpose from this time shall be to become a partaker 
of that precious faith which my husband enjoys.' 

" Notwithstanding this family had had so many proofs 

of the vanity and emptiness of the world, Mrs. L 

had not till now been completely disenchanted of the delu 
sions and dreams of fancy. Even amid their greatest des- 



88 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Scene in a basement story. 



titution and depression, novels had constituted the only 
class of books that she had looked into with pleasure. 

" But the decided piety, the changed and chastened con- 
duct, conversation, and example of her husband, made an 
impression upon her mind. Religious books were put into 
her hands by friends, to whom she felt so deeply obligated 
that she could not decline reading them. These exerted a 
most salutary influence. * And now,' she remarked, * for 
a considerable time I have not indulged in reading my 
favourite authors. Indeed, they appear so insipid and tri- 
fling I wonder how I could ever have enjoyed them. 
Praised be the name of the Lord that nobler pursuits, holy 
purposes, and heavenly hopes have fixed my mind.' 

" The transactions of that memorable evening I leave, 
only remarking, that I never partook of that holy supper 
more to my comfort — -never before enjoyed such near com- 
munion with the blessed Saviour, or was so sensible of his 
exceeding great love to me and all the world as then." 

The hour appointed for this holy ordinance was at the 
close of the day, just before the setting of the sun. It was 
during the summer months, and the day proved to be very 
warm and sultry. In company with two or three members 

of the church, we proceeded to Mr. L 's lowly 

abode. He was not able to visit the sanctuary of God, 
and there was no prospect that he ever would be. There 
was, therefore, a propriety in celebrating this holy supper 
in his habitation. The tenement he occupied was a cellar, 
or low basement room in Oak-street. The principal room, 
and the one where we were now assembled, was almost in 
the street, and was used as a sugar and toy store. The 
weather was so hot, that the windows had necessarily to be 
raised ; and in the street, gazing upon us, and hallooing, 
were troops of ragged children, from whom we could in 
no way be protected. For though a curtain was hung up 
at the windows, they did not hesitate to raise it up evei 
and anon, to see what was passing within. 



THE PARALYTIC. 89 



Divine communion. 



Feeble in health, debilitated under the influence of the 
heat, and exposed to this most annoying rudeness, I expect- 
ed but little comfort ; but seldom did a communion appear 
more solemn, or my enjoyment rise higher than on the pre- 
sent occasion. The manner in which my friend closed her 
account of this subject prompted me to request a more 
particular description of the impression made upon her 
mind by the solemnities of this occasion. Without attempt- 
ing to convey an idea of the appearance which this family 
presented at this interesting moment, I will simply here 
insert an extract from the reply I received to my request. 

" The day appointed for the Lord's supper was favour- 
able. When we arrived all things were in readiness. The 
little room wore on that occasion an aspect of unwonted 
order and cleanliness. All was neat and tidy. We pro- 
ceeded immediately to the service. But really, sir, I was 
so taken up with my own feelings — my attention was so 
completely absorbed by what was passing in my own 
breast, and by holy intercourse with God, that I noticed 
nothing scarcely around me, and am, therefore, altogether 
incompetent to describe this solemnity ; or if I should say 
any thing, I fear it would appear exaggerated ; for to me all 
was puio, all was holy, all was full of God and heaven. 
The blessed Saviour welcomed us to that feast of love. 
He presided there. He made his presence to be felt by 
every waiting heart before him. He refreshed our hungry 
souls with the bread of life : for he imparted from his 
own fulness, grace, light, love, joy, peace, purity, yes, all 
the blessings that he, by his precious blood-shedding, has 
obtained for us. That was exalted communion indeed, 
when his voice whispered to the soul, ' Thou art mine 
henceforth. I have purified thee unto me as a peculiar 
one. Thou art the purchase of my cross. Now return to 
me that love which is my due.' O gracious words ! and I 
trust every one replied, ' Dear Saviour, take my poor heart 
and let it be for ever closed to all but thee.' 1 Amen." 
8* 



90 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 






God leads by a way which we know not- 



CHAPTER V. 

RESULT OF DIVINE CHASTENING. 

" I love thy chast'nings, O my God, 
They fix my hopes on thine abode ; 
Where, in thy presence fully blest, 
Thy stricken saints for ever rest." 

In the subsequent history of this family we shall fiad a 
happy illustration of the meaning and truth of that declara- 
tion of the prophet, — " They that wait upon the Lord 
shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings 
as eagles. They shall run and not be weary, and they 
shall walk and not faint." Their onward course in the 
way everlasting was vigorous and untiring. Seldom have 
I seen, in any family, a happier or more striking develop- 
ment of all the graces of the Christian character. Mr. and 
Mrs. Lewson seemed constantly to cherish and cultivate a 
meek, and subdued, and holy spirit. Though still surround- 
ed by all the evils of poverty — and Mr. L still found 

that he could do nothing to contribute to the support of his 
family — they bowed submissively to the will of Heaven, 
and appeared uniformly cheerful and happy. When re- 
duced to the greatest straits, then they trusted most in God, 
and found, by happy experience, that he was able to do 
what he had promised. 

After the occurrences mentioned in the preceding pages, 
Mr. L one day remarked to one who was convers- 
ing with him : — " In looking back on my past life I am 
lost in an overwhelming sense of the Lord's wisdom and 
holiness. What I once repined at I now rejoice in. He 
has led me by a way which I knew not. He diied up the 



THE PARALYTIC. 91 



Advancement in the divine life. 



streams of earthly enjoyment, every one, that I might seek 
my happiness in him alone. Though we have suffered ir 
various ways, from want, care, and fear, what no one of 
our friends have an idea of, I see it has all been for my 
good and the good of my family. And I speak the lan- 
guage of my heart when I thankfully acknowledge that 
goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my 
life. I cannot express how grateful I feel to the Lord for 
all his past dealings. I would not have any thing altered." 

We are sometimes disposed to acknowledge the mercy 
and goodness of God in past afflictions, and yet our hearts 
would be found rebellious, if present afflictions were laid 
upon us. But it seemed to be the divine purpose to keep 
this family in the furnace, that they might not wander a 
single step from God. It was intimated in a former chap- 
ter, that the little babe that was taken from his mother's 
arms, and presented to the Saviour in the holy rite of bap- 
tism, had taken his flight to the eternal world. I was absent 
from the city at the time of this occurrence. An extract 
from a letter, adverting to this circumstance, will corroborate 
the statement before made in relation to the evident advance 

nient that Mr. L was now making in the divine 

life. 

" When I entered the house on Monday, Mrs. L 

came up to me, pressed my hand, and then turned away 

and wept bitterly. I looked at Mr. Ir , who soon 

replied, * We have lost our little babe since we saw you. 
He died the Saturday of that week you left the city.' 
After describing all the circumstances of his sickness with 
that particularity and deep feeling which we naturally ex- 
pect from a parent, I said, ' How did you feel when you 
saw the spirit of the child was fled V 

"'The Lord,' he replied, ' gave me sweet composure of 
soul, and entire resignation to the divine will. I followed 
him in thought to the realms of glory, and saw him admit- 
ted into the society of the redeemed. I am confident he is 
now before the throne, singing a new song to Him tha* 



92 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The cholera. 

sitteth thereon, and to the Lamb. I rejoice that he has gone 
safely into rest before me. Some slight perception of the 
happiness upon which he has entered has removed all 
painful sensations at parting with him. O thanks be for ever 
ascribed to the Saviour, who has removed the sting of 
death, by bringing life and immortality to light.' 

" Is not this the triumph of faith ? This man has surely 
grown in grace constantly during the last few months. He 
has taken a firm, decided stand on the Lord's side. He 
appears like a deep, experimental, practical Christian. He 
is a bright living witness of the benefit of affliction. And 
the success which in this case crowned the efforts of those 
who sought to lead him to the Lord, should be a constant 
incentive to every one to deal faithfully with those to whom 
they have access." 

When that fearful scourge which has desolated so many 
parts of the earth had, during the summer of 1832, emptied 
New York of more than half of its population, and con- 
verted that bustling city into a scene of comparative soli- 
tude, many families were left, not only to be the prey of 
that destroyer, but to contend with all the evils of utter des- 
titution and want. And among this number was the family 
of poor Lewson. He was residing in a street and neigh- 
bourhood where this fatal disease made great and awful 
ravages. The last time that I ever met him was a few 
months after this dark cloud of death had passed over. 1 
asked him what were his reflections in the midst of the 
mortality that surrounded him. I shall never forget the 
pathetic manner in which he depicted that awful scene. 

" I could not get out of the house," said he, " and we 
had not the means of removing into the country, or of sus- 
taining ourselves there, even if I had been able to walk 
For a few days, after ten or twelve began to die each day 
right round us, things appeared gloomy. But when this 
dreadful mortality continued week after week, and they 
would come in and tell me that such an one was dead on 
this side of us, and such an one on that — and a third, an 



THE PARALYTIC. 93 

Trust in God. 



a fourth opposite us, — as I sat here and heard the groans all 
around us, and saw the hearse drive by every half hour, I 
thought, surely I and my family will not escape. We shall 
probably in the course of a few days be huddled together, 
with those now dying around us, in one common grave. 
For a few moments my heart sunk within me, and a cloud 
came over my soul. But then these words came into my 
mind — ' Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why 
art thou disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God ; for I 
shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, 
and my God.' And then all my fears quickly vanished. 

" Several other passages also came into my mind which 
gave me great comfort. * When thou passest through the 
waters I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they 
shall not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the 
fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle 
upon thee.' ' He shall cover thee with his feathers ; and 
under his wings shalt thou trust ; his truth shall be thy 
shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror 
by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day ; nor for the 
pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction 
that wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy 
side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not 
come nigh thee.' After my mind had been directed to 
these promises I felt so resigned to the will of God, and 
such a confidence in his character, that I can truly say 
that I never was more cheerful or happy than I was during 
the whole season of the cholera. The Lord provided for 
all our wants, and literally fulfilled his promise in protect- 
ing us. Not one of the family had the least attack of that 
disease of which so many died." 

In the sketch that I have here attempted to draw, the 
reader may form some idea of the purposes and designs of 
the Divine Being in sending affliction upon the children of 
men. He may also see the happy result of those divine 
dispensations which at first put on a most terrific appear- 
ance, as though the great God of heaven had verily become 



94 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 






Concluding inference. 



our implacable adversary. The reader may find it profit- 
able to ponder these things ; and if he is treading through 
the deep waters — if calamity of any description has over- 
taken him — if sickness, or sorrow, or any blighting evil 
which '• flesh is heir to," is weighing down his spirits, and 
covering all his future pathway as with a dense and impene- 
trable cloud, I would say to him — " My friend, submit your- 
self to the mighty hand of God. Seek to know his will ; ask 
him to send out his light, and his truth, that they may guide 
and lead you to his holy hill. And in the end you will be 
able to add your testimony to that great company that have 
gene before you up the thorny steep to heaven, and say, 
It is good for me that I have been afflicted." 



THE 



WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED 



CHAPTER I. 

A YOUNG CONVERT. 

" Young and fair, 

Pure as her sister lilies were, 
Adorn'd with meekest maiden grace, 
With every charm of soul and face, 
That virtue's awful eye approves, 
And fond affection dearly loves." 

Montgomery. 

In my early days, I used frequently to stroll through the 
garden of a friend, that was laid out upon the most extended 
plan, and kept with great neatness and care. There was 
within this enclosure such a variety of objects, and yet so 
tastefully disposed — such an assemblage of shrubs, and trees, 
and plants, and flowers — that one almost felt, as he passed 
along through this scene, that he was walking through the 
fabled Elysian fields. What added to the pleasure of a ramble 
over these grounds was, that ordinarily every thing around 
appeared calm and quiet ; the garden being the property 
of a private individual, who designed it as a place of re- 
creation merely for himself and his friends. It was delight- 
ful to go there, just as the day faded into twilight, and, amid 
the odour-bearing shrubs that stood thick around, to inhale 
the balmy breath of evening ; or to tread those pleasant 
walks, just as the day dawned, when the commingled strains 

95 



J6 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



= 



The young peach tree. The broken limb. 

of the feathered tribes sounded so melodiously, and the 
balmy breath of morning met the lungs with such grateful 
and invigorating influence. 

In this garden there was a young peach tree, of a choice 
kind, that had been obtained with great expense and diffi 
culty. It was now growing thriftily, and was the pride of the 
gardener, who daily watched it with great care. At length, 
upon the opening of spring, this favourite tree became 
covered with blossoms. As the season advanced, several 
beautiful peaches were seen hanging from one of its most 
luxuriant branches. These grew fair and large, ai d at 
length ripened into most delicious fruit 

On a certain occasion, about the time that these peaches 
attained maturity, a large party of gay and fashionable 
young people, the guests of the proprietor of these grounds, 
strolled through these shaded and flowery walks to regale 
themselves upon the fruit that on every hand met the eye, 
and to enjoy the beauty of the scene. The peaches on this 
favourite tree attracted some eye, and in an effort to obtain 
them, the branch on which they grew was torn down. 
Never shall I forget the appearance of the gardener, as I 
approached this tree the next morning. He stood, with 
sadness and perplexed anxiety depicted upon his counte- 
nance, looking at the drooping branch, which was still 
attached to its parent stock by the rind and a small por- 
tion of the woody substance. With great care he lifted up 
the limb, pressing it back to its proper place, and confining 
it there with bandages. But it did not avail. The leaves 
faded, and the whole branch, to all appearance, became 
withered. The gardener, however, did not give it over. 
He cut off a considerable portion of the withered limb, 
and continued to make applications to the remaining part 
to resuscitate it, till at length he succeeded in drawing 
forth the indications of vitality. The branch again put 
forth leaves, and by degrees became firmly and permanently 
attached to its native stock. A lesson of moral instruction 
was conveyed to my mind by the watchfulness and care ; 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. V7 



Emma B . First religious impressions. 



the anxiety and persevering effort of this gardener. I was 
reminded of what God was doing for the plants in his 
spiritual garden, and of the manner in which he revives 
the withered branches that sin tears down. This thought 
came up powerfully before my mind when, at a subsequent 
period, I was led to contemplate the facts which will be 
be presented in the narrative that follows. The reader, as 
he proceeds, will therefore distinctly see the ground upon 
which this brief biographical sketch is denominated " the 

WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED." 

Emma B was reared most tenderly by affectionate 

parents. She entered upon life a stranger to sorrow, and 
with a heart that looked for its happiness amid the gay scenes 
of earthly vanity. But God, who cared more for her than 
she did for herself, so ordered things, in his providence, 
that a message of salvation was brought effectually to her 
heart at that very period in life when the pleasures of the 
world appear most fascinating. There was brought to 
her mind such a view of the preciousness of Christ, that 
she was willing to relinquish all, to be permitted to sit at 
his feet. The instrumentality by which her attention was 
first arrested and fixed on divine things, was the preaching 
of an eminent servant of the Lord, who has since been 
removed, by the great Head of the church, from the charge 
of a single parish to a wider field of labour, where he con- 
tinues to receive multiplied tokens that the work of the 
Lord is prospering in his hands. 

The first time 1 met Emma B was at my ordinary 

Bible class. Her appearance was altogether prepossessing, 
and the facts communicated to me in relation to her case, 
enlisted in her behalf the warmest sympathies and holiest 
affections of my soul. Circumstances at this time had 
Iranspired to place her beyond the reach of the faithful 
ministrations of that much loved herald of the cross, who 
had been the instrument of calling her from darkness to 
light The church, upon whose stated ministry her family- 
had decided to attend, did not, at that time, enjoy tho.^c 




d<? GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Bible class. Peculiar trials. 

various weekly services, nor that direct evangelical preacn- 
ing that had been so eminently blessed to her soul. It wa» 
with a desire to provide, in some increased degree, for her 
spiritual necessities, that she visited the lecture room of — 
church, and through a friend, by whom she was introduced, 
expressed an earnest desire to connect herself with the 
Bible class of which the author then had the charge. 

I have already said that Emma B 's external appear- 
ance was exceedingly prepossessing. Seldom have I seen 
a more speaking face ; and, in all her movements and atti- 
tudes, she seemed like one of nature's own gentlewomen. 
She was young, and beautiful, and brilliant ; and yet there 
was something so soft, and chastened, and grave, and sub- 
dued in her manner, that the most superficial observer might 
have seen at a glance that she was one who had sat at 
Jesus' feet, and had " tasted of the powers of the world to 
come." The more information I obtained in relation to 
Emma, and the more I saw of her in the Bible class, the 
more deeply interested I became in her. I was told that 
her family were wealthy and fashionable people, and that 
ihe whole circle of her friends were devoted to gayety 
diid pleasure, and regarded her as under the influence of 
delusion. It was also remarked that she had to resist, 
every day, unceasing importunity to mingle in the 
scenes and circles of fashion and gayety. Though her 
friends were so unwearied in their endeavours to inspire 
Ler with her former love of dress, and to draw her again 
10 the dance and the theatre, she remained steadfast, and 
kept on, m the even tenor of her way, a plain, unadorned, 
meek, heavenly minded Christian. 

This was the account that I received in relation to 

Emma B . The opportunity that I had of conversing 

with her, though very limited, led me to believe, that she 
had indeed " seen Jesus," and that she was prepared to 
make an> sacrifices to follow him. She was, however, 
still a young and inexperienced Christian ; and from what 
has been already said, it is evident that she was surround- 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 99 



Spiritual enjoyment. 



ed by peculiar temptations. How she withstood these will 
be seen in the sequel. Emma was at no time under my 
pastoral care, any farther than what arose from the circum- 
stance of her attending my Bible class ; and, therefore, I 
had not that opportunity of imparting direct personal advice 
that I should have enjoyed had she been one of my own 
charge. She had, however, a number of Christian friends, 
who felt deeply interested in her, and sought by every 
means in their power to help her onward in the Christian 
race. 

The advice and counsel of a pastor are valuable, and the 
encouragement of Christian friends is of great assistance 
in strengthening one in the pursuit of holiness ; but, after 
all, it mainly depends upon ourselves whether we hold on 
our way. If we are faithful in looking to God, and are 
determined to flee the very appearance of evil, we shall 
be "kept by the power of his grace." Emma seemed in 
some degree to realize this. She spent much time in com- 
munion with God ; and one hour of each day was re i- 
giously devoted to self-examination — and one day in e^ch 
week to fasting and prayer. While pursuing this course, 
there was no declension in the fervour of her piety. She 
grew rapidly in grace, and was enabled oft-times to go up 
to the very top of the mount, and behold the mos* enraptur- 
ing displays of divine glory. Adverting to this period in 
her religious course, while on her death-bed, c he remarked, 
" Then I cared for nothing but Christ. Hi was my all in 
all. I had none near me to enter into riy feelings, and 
they were poured out in all their fervency to God. There 
were times when it seemed that my mort .i frame could not 
endure that sense of his presence — that enjoyment of 
communion with him with which I was favoured." 

The state of mind here described is such as has been 
enjoyed by many eminent. Christians, who were entirety 
removed from the influence of enthusiasm. President Ed- 
wards, whose name is identified with the highest displays of 
human intellect, and whose admirable Treatise upon tht 



100 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Early religious experience of president Edwards. 

Affections, shows with what rigorous scrutiny he looked 
into every thing that might be resolved into animal excite- 
ment, remarks in relation to his own religious experience,—- 

" The sense I had of divine things would often of a 
sudden kindle up, as it were, a sweet burning in my heart, 
an ardour of soul that I know not how to express. 

" Not long after I began to experience these things, I 
gave an account to my father of some things that had 
passed in my mind. I was pretty much affected by the 
discourse we had together ; and when that discourse was 
ended, I walked abroad alone in a solitary place in my 
father's pasture, for contemplation. And as I was walking 
there, and looking up on the sky and clouds, there came 
into my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty and 
grace of God, that I know not how to express. I seemed 
to see them both in a sweet conjunction ; majesty and 
meekness joined together : it was a sweet, and gentle, and 
holy majesty — and also a majestic meekness — an awful 
sweetness — a high, and great, and holy gentleness. 

" After this my sense of divine things gradually increased, 
and became more and more lively, and had more of that in- 
ward s veetness. The appearance of every thing was altered 
— ther? seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or ap- 
pearance of divine glory, in almost every thing — in the sun, 
moon, and stars — in the clouds and blue sky — in the grass, 
flowers, and trees — in the water, and all nature, which used 
greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the 
moon for continuance ; and in the day spent much time in 
viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of 
God in these things; in the mean time singing forth, with a 
low voice, my contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer. 
I had vehement longings of soul after God and Christ, and 
after more holiness, wherewith my heart seemed to be full 
and ready to break, which often brought to my mind the 
words of the psalmist, < My soul breaketh for the longing 
it hath: " 

The gifted and amiable Cowper, whose mind was so 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 10J 



— Braiiierd. Views of divine glory 



frequently under a cloud, had views i? the divine goodness, 
when first brought to enjoy the lig-ht of God's reconciled 
countenance, which he thus des^r'bes : " Unless the Al- 
mighty arm had been under me, I think I should have died 
with gratitude and joy. My eyes rilled with tears, and my 
voice choked with transport. I could only look up to 
heaven in silent fear, overwhelmed with love and wonder 
But the work of the Holy Spirit is best described in his 
own words : it is 'joy unspeakable and full of glory.' 
Thus was my heavenly Father in Christ Jesus pleased to 
give me the full assurance of faith, and out of a stony unbe- 
lieving heart to 'raise up a child unto Abraham.' How 
glad should I now have been to have spent every moment 
in prayer and thanksgiving! I lost no opportunity of 
repairing to a throne of grace, but flew to it with an ^ata- 
estness irresistible and never to be satisfied. Could I heip 
it? Could I do otherwise than love and rejoice in my 
reconciled Father in Christ Jesus ? The Lord had enlarged 
my heart, and ' I ran in the way of his commandments.' 
For many succeeding weeks tears were ready to flow if I 
did but speak of the gospel, or mention the name of Jesus. 
To rejoice day and night was all my employment. Too 
happy to sleep much, I thought it was but lost time that 
was spent in slumber." 

I will refer to one case more — that of David Brainerd, 
whose name, like that of Henry Martyn, is associated with 
all that is sacred and inspiring in the missionary enterprise. 
He remarks, "As I was walking in a dark thick grove, 
unspeakable glory seemed to open to the view and appre- 
hension of my soul. I do not mean any external bright- 
ness, for I saw no such thing ; nor do I intend any imagi- 
nation of a body of light, somewhere in the third heave;., 
or anv thing of that nature ; but it was a new inward appre- 
hension, or view that I had of God, such as I never had 
before, nor any thing which had the least resemblance to it. 
I stood still ; wondered and admired ! I knew that I never 
had seen before any thing comparable to it for excellency 

9* 



102 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The grand desijw of religion. 



and beauty : it was wide y different from all the concep- 
tions that ever I had of God, or things divine. I had no 
particular apprehension ol any one person in the Trinity, 
either the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost ; but it ap- 
peared to be the divine glory. My soul rejoiced with joy 
unspeakable to see such a God, such a glorious Divine 
Being ; and I was inwardly pleased and satisfied, that he 
should be God over all for ever and ever. My soul was so 
captivated and delighted with the excellency, loveliness, 
greatness, and other perfections of God, that I was even 
swallowed up in him ; at least to that degree, that I had no 
thought (as I remember) at first about my own salvation, 
:md scarcely reflected that there was such a creature as 
myself." 

A r ter reading such testimony from such witnesses, we 
shall not be disposed to set down to the account of a sickly 
or disordered imagination those displays of divine glory 
which shone at this time with such heavenly brightness 
upon Emma's view. An inmate of the same dwelling, who 
saw much of Emma at this time, has since remarked, — 

" She seemed too holy for earth. Her thoughts were 
entirely given up to religion. She rose very early, and I 
never awoke that I did not find her either on her knees 
or with her Bible in her hand." 

I cannot here refrain from making the passing comment 
upon the preceding remark, that the great mass of people 
have no adequate idea of the grand design of religion, or 
of what is necessarily implied by a public profession of 
Christianity. The idea often entertained, is — that if one 
makes the service of God the paramount object of life ; if 
he consecrates to him the best energies of his soul, and 
has it for his principal business to walk so as to please 
him ; finding his highest delight in prayer, and his great- 
est enjoyment in communion with God — that he is too 
holy for earth. There can be no greater mistake than this. 
This is what all Christians ought to be ; what God requires 
them to be ; and what they must be before this earth is 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 103 



Emma in her flourishing and prosperous state. 



renovated, and "the kingdoms of this world shall become 
the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ." There is no 
one thing that so retards the Redeemer's chariot, and keeps 
oack the rising tide of millennial glory, as the low standard 
of Christian character which almost universally prevails. 
A spirit of worldliness and of apath/ is the bane of the 
Christian church. Until Christians feel that it is their 
duty and privilege to keep up to the fervour of their first 
love, — that it will be their sin and condemnation to retro- 
grade from that point — that, starting from that point, they 
must go on, abounding more and more in love to God and 
in desires after holiness, — they will never accomplish much 
for the glory of God in this sin-desolated world. 

A Christian friend who had frequent opportunities of 
meeting Emma at this time thus speaks of her : — " She 
was indeed most lovely then, for she was filled with the 
love of God. The love of Christ — the love of a crucified 
and risen Saviour, was her constant joyous theme ; and 
many happy hours did we spend together in admiring and 
adoring the riches of sovereign grace." 

Emma, at this period in her Christian course, seeme I 
" like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringith 
forth his fruit in his season." She seemed like a tree 
planted in the garden of the Lord, " like a cedar in Leba- 
non with fair branches, and with a shadowy shroud, and 
of a high stature, whose top was among the thick boughs." 
The waters of life that flowed by her, and continually irri- 
gated her roots, made her great. So that " her height be- 
came exalted above all the trees of the field ; and her leaves 
were multiplied and her branches became long. Thus 
was she fair in her greatness, in the length of her branches : 
for her root was by great waters. The cedars in the gar- 
den of God could not hide her : the fir trees were not x'.ke 
her boughs, and the chestnut trees were not like he; branch- 
es ; not any tree in the garden of God was like unto her in 
her beauty." And is it possible that this tree, sj fair, so 
beautiful, so luxuriant, will be broken down, and lie shivered 



104 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Deceitfulness of the human heart. 



and strovvn upon the earth ? Daniel in his visions witnessed 
something not unlike this. " I saw, and behold a tree in 
the midst of the e^rth, and the height thereof was great. 
The tree grew, and was strong, and the height thereof 
reached unto heaven, and the sight thereof to the end of all 
the earth : the leaves thereof were fair, and the fruit there- 
of much. I saw in the visions of my head upon my bed, 
and, behold, a watcher and a holy one came down from 
heaven ; he cried aloud, and said thus, Hew down the 
tree, and cut off his branches, shake off his leaves, and 
scatter his fruit." The prophet Jeremiah, having de- 
scribed the blessedness of him that trusts in the Lord under 
the following imagery, — " He shall be as a tree planted by 
the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, 
and shall not see when heat cometh ; but her leaf shall be 
green, and shall not be careful in the year of drought, 
neither shall cease from yielding fruit,"— immediately 
adds, " The heart is deceitful above all things, and despe- 
/fately wicked: who can know it?" This simple decla- 
ration is a key which will unlock every door of mystery 
in relation to any case of declension in piety. 

Emma B- appeared like a vigorous, healthful branch, 

united so firmly to the heavenly vine that nothing could 
separate her from it ; but she carried within her a heart 
which, though in a measure subdued by the power of the 
Holy Spirit, was still deceitful above all things. And 
though no one who passed by and saw this nourishing 
branch, and beheld its luxuriant foliage and rich blossoms, 
would have anticipated that it would one day be broken 
almost off, and hang down withered and torn ; yet so it was 
This lovely young Christian, who at first made such rapid 
advances in the divine life, afterwards sadly declined, giving 
increased emphasis to the apostolic injunction, " Therefore, 
let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 105 



Adverse influences. 



CHAPTEK II. 

THE SAD DECLINE. 

If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is 
withered. From the fifteenth of John. 

They who are placed under the most favourable circum- 
stances for the cultivation of piety, are in great and con- 
stant danger, from the remaining corruptions of a depraved 
heart, and from the insidious and unsuspected adverse 
influences around them, of being drawn fatally aside from 
the narrow path. " The liveliest affections will abate and 
cool, if pains the most unremitted be not taken to keep 
them in constant and active exercise ; and that love which 
might have burned with a pure and holy flame, if the oil 
which should have fed it had not been exhausted, will 
sink, and will die away till it is totally extinguished, if the 
supply be not constantly kept up. The graces and virtues 
of the Christian life, like plants of the rarest description, 
and requiring the tenderest culture, will inevitably grow 
languid and fall into decay, if not kept alive by the most 
strenuous exertion for their cultivation, and the most earn- 
est application for those supplies of grace, which are to 
the pious heart, what the rain, the dew, and the sunshine 
of heaven are to the flowers of the field."* 

Emma had to encounter temptations of a peculiar cha- 
racter. For some time she held on her way nobly ; but ulti- 
mately her spiritual foes prevailed, and she was drawn into 
the snare of the devil, and for a while led captive by him 

* Dr. Bedell on Spiritual Declension, Sermons, vol. ii. p. 22. 



06 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Absence of Emma. Change. 



= 



If this part of her history could be accurately unfolded, I 
doubt not it would be seen that among the earliest steps , 
in this downward course, was the relinquishment of the 
exercises of that hour formerly devoted to self-examination. 
When we begin to decline, we like to hide the fact from 
ourselves Hence, though we continue to go through the 
form of self-examination, we do not do our work honestly. 
We are not willing to know the worst. We are not willing 
to have the wound probed, but wish to have it " healed 
slightly." 

As has been already intimated, Emma was not placed 
snder my pastoral care ; and I therefore had not that oppor- 
tunity of being made acquainted with her progress in the 
divine life that I might otherwise have enjoyed. About a 
year or eighteen months after my first acquaintance with 
her, she went on a visit to some distant friends, where she 
remained several months. After this, she came no more to 
the Bible class ; nor to the evening lectures, which she fre- 
quently used to attend. The only information I could obtain, 
in answer to the inquiries that I made concerning her, was 
that she had been absent, and had returned in good health, 

and was attending church. The state of her religious 

feelings was unknown. Amid the pressure of engagements, 
connected with the spiritual improvement of the people of 

ray own charge, Emma B , no longer seen at the Bible 

class, was lost sight of. Time passed on. A variety of 
events had transpired since I last saw Emma. I had en- 
tered upon a new and distant field of labour, and was 
entirely engrossed in professional engagements that, in 
multiplied forms, pressed upon me. My anxieties were 
all awake lor the salvation of a people, many cf whom 
now began to evince a deep interest in eternal things. It 
was not wonderful, therefore, that even the recollection of 

Emma B ! ad almost faded from my memory. 

But, hidden- ally, in a conversation with a stranger, Em- 
ma's name was mentioned. A long train of reminiscences 
were immediately called up. Again, I seemed to see the 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 107 

Retrograde movement. Sickness. 






gentle and heavenly-minded Emma B , as I had seen 

her when she first came and took her seat among the mem- 
bers of the Bible class, so meek, and humble, and subdued ; 
so ardent in her attachment to Christ, and so unfaltering 
in her efforts to follow him. I had not heard one word 
about her fatal decline. But the individual who mentioned 
her name told me this sad story. Emma, she said, had 
gone back to all the follies of the world, and had long 
evinced an entire indifference to the things of religion. 
Recently she had been attacked with pulmonary affection, 
from which there was no probability of her recovery. My 
informant went on further to remark that there was great 
reason to fear that Emma was awfully unprepared to die ; 
and that, unless something was done for her, she might go 
down to her grave in a state of fixed apathy. 

God, however, who quickeneth the dead, had a purpose 
of eternal mercy connected with the verv sickness which 
had now fallen with deathly blight :oon her. Still, the 
information I had received pressed with such weighl upon 
me that I felt constrained to write to one of her eariy 
Christian friends, then residing in the same city with her, 
describing her case, and begging her to go and visit the 
backsliding and dying Emma. In this matter my wish 

had been anticipated ; for Miss T , the person to whom 

I wrote, had already paid her several visits, which were not 
unblessed. Emma's case seemed so sad, that I felt it my 
duty to address a few words directly to her, which I did in 
the following note : — 

My dear Friend, — The reception of this letter will 
probably be very unexpected to you. Some three or 
four years ago, while I was labouring to draw sinners 
unto Christ, Divine Providence placed you within the 
circle of my labours. From the first I felt a deep interest 
in your spiritual and eternal welfare. For some reason, 
that I do not now recollect, you were suddenly removed 
from the circle of my labours ; and, though I often inquired 



108 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Letter from the author. 

after you, I never met with any one that could give any- 
very definite account of you. The recollection of Emma 

B was like a bright vision that had passed away; 

all that remained was, the remembrance that I had seen 
her sitting, like a meek and lovely child, at the feet of 
Jesus. The radiance of hope was upon her brow, and 
heavenly peace in her bosom. I did not expect to see 
her, or hear of her again, till I entered the fields of para- 
dise, and began to revive, among the happy beings that tra- 
versed those fields, the acquaintanceships of earth. Then, 
among those that had washed their robes, and made them 
white, in the blood of the Lamb, I did hope to recognise 
my young sainted friend ! Yesterday, unexpectedly, I 
heard your name mentioned. I eagerly inquired after you, 
and whether your " walk was close with God?" It was 
a friend that loved you — that loved your soul — of whom I 
inquired. O pardon me, when I inquire of you, " Where 
art thou?" The thought flashed upon my mind, I shall 
meet you in judgment, and perhaps I shall behold you for 
ever cast out. What will Christ say to you when he re- 
minds you of his agonies and death ? Be assured that 1 
have written these lines in kindness, and to say, " prepare 
to meet thy God !" Do you feel prepared? Can you look 
back, with satisfaction, on the past ? You have stood be- 
fore the King Eternal, and solemnly dedicated yourself to 
his service ; you called men and angels to witness — yea, 
God himself — that you renounced the world, the flesh, and 
the devil. How will that vow appear in a dying hour ? O, 
return, return unto the Lord, before it be too late for ever. 

I probably shall never see you until we meet at the 
judgment bar ; but do allow me to hope that you will then 
appear at the right hand of the Son of man. I hope you 
will not mistake the motives that have led me to address 
this communication to you. May it prove to you the 
warning voice of God, and may his mercy in Christ pluck 
you as a brand from the burning. 

Your affectionate friend, J. A. C. 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 109 



The causes that tended to bring about Emma's declnie. 



A friend of Emma's, who loved her tenderly, and saw 
with anguish her sad defection from the Lord, and who 
was privileged to act the part of a ministering angel in 
recalling her to the feet of Jesus, and helping her to pre- 
pare for her mortal hour, has kindly furnished me with 
materials from which I shall draw most of tic facts that 
will be presented in the remainder of this sketch. 

Miss H , the friend just adverted to, having spoken 

of Emma's burning love for Christ, and her devotedness 
to his cause, remarks, — " From this beautiful picture of 
the fervour of her first love, it is painful to turn. Alas ! 
that so bright a jewel should have ceased for a while to 
gem the Redeemer's crown. It is painful too to reflect 
upon the many hinderances that beset her ; and when we 
consider the deceitfulness of sin, we cannot so much won- 
der that she fell, as that she thus long held on her way. 
Her struggle was not only with the mere rising corruptions 
of her own heart ; but those to whom she was bound by 
every tie of love, sought, on the one hand, to prevent her 
strictness of devotion, and, on the other, to allure her back 
to gayety ; and in the language of the psalmist, ' No man 
«"-ared for her soul.' At home, none comprehended her 
feelings ; abroad, none compassionated them. Not being 

attached to the church under the care of Mr. C , nor 

yet able to attend it, she seemed to have no pastor. The 
clergyman upon whose ministry her family attended was, 
properly, the only person whom she had a right to look to, 
as sustaining to her the relation of a pastor. He had only 
a very general acquaintance with her. And often when 
she sought for Christian counsel and sympathy, the re- 
sult was such that she felt mortified and disappointed. 
She had exalted views of the character of the Christian 
minister, nor did she enough consider that all are compassed 
with infirmity; when, therefore, the watchful care she had 
anticipated was not experienced, she felt in bitterness, ' I 
have seen an end of all perfection.' 

10 



110 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The interview. Illness. 



" Circumstances continued to prevent her from enjoying 
the society of Christian friends, or the support of a Chris- 
tian pastor, long before she had yielded to the wishes of 
those around her, to mingle more in the world from which 
she had so entirely withdrawn herself. Beset with snares 
on every hand, naturally of an affectionate disposition, she 
felt the want of human sympathies. Says one who then 
saw much of her, « We cannot believe that she joined the 
circles of her friends at first from any other than a desire 
to prove to them her willingness to please. Her first 
retrograde steps were such, as most would think not incon- 
sistent. By degrees she entered into gayer scenes, and 
then soon became to all appearance a complete worldling.' 

" Time passed on,'* continues Miss H . " I heard 

occasionally that she was the gayest of the gay. I often 
wondered whether she could be happy. I often longed to 
see her. It was strange that the first time I again saw 
Emma, we met as mourners in the house of mourning. 
We spoke of our bereavements, but it was as strangers 
speak. There was something in her manner that repulsed 
me, and it was with a vexed as well as sorrowing feeling 
that I bade her adieu. How little thought I then, that ere 
I laid aside the garments of wo, she would be with those 
who ' stand before the throne in white robes, and having 
palms in their hands !' How little, that it should be my 
privilege to watch the preparation of her spirit for its up- 
ward flight ! 

" Early in the fall of 1834, 1 was informed of her illness, 
and that her mind was in a very anxious and unhappy state. 
Accompanied by a friend, I sought admission to her, and 
was not denied. Never shall I forget the shock of the 
moment when she met us. I had merely thought of her 
as an invalid ; but when I saw the seal of that fatal disease 
with which I had been sadly familiar, it was to me as the 
engraving of death. I dared not trust my voice to speak. 
Calling soon after, I found her unable to see me. The cir- 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. Ill 

A fact adverted to. 

cumstances of that morning were afterwards related to me. 

She had attempted to write to Mr. C , but her strength 

had proved inadequate to the exertion, and a severe faint- 
ing fit followed." 

The fact adverted to in the conclusion of the last para- 
graph, and the peculiar state of Emma's mind at this 
period, will be unfolded in the next chapter. 



11*2 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The inalienable character of God's love. 



CHAPTER III. 

SANCTIFIED SICKNESS. 

There is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again. 

From the Book of Job. 

The Psalmist bears the following testimony in relation 
to the covenant protection which God extends to those 
who are truly his people : " The steps of a good man are 
ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way. 
Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down : for the 
Lord upholdeth him with his hand.''' 

This is the only hope that any human creature can che- 
rish of his finally reaching mount Zion with songs and 
everlasting joy — though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast 
down: for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand. Were 
it not for the hand of the Lord plucking us away from the 
downward path in spite of ourselves, we should not only 
wander from him every hour, but we should never return 
from our wanderings. What a blessed privilege — what 
an unspeakable mercy it is, that Israel's God is our keeper, 
and that he has said, / will never leave thee nor forsake 
thee J The mountains shall depart, and the hills be re- 
moved ; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, nei- 
ther shcdl the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the 
Lord, that hath mercy on thee. Were we left to our- 
selves — were we not continually kept by the power of 
God's grace, not one of us would ever'stand within the 
walls of the New Jerusalem. But the great Captain of our 
salvation, who has undertaken to conduct his chosen peo- 
ple to the everlasting possession of that heavenly rest 
which remaineth for the people of God, hath said, I know 
my sheep, and they follow me; and I give unto them eter> 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. l!3 

The body destroyed to save the soul alive. 

nal life $ and they shall never perish, neither shall any 
pluck them out of my hand. When God's people wander 
from him, he in covenant love smites them with his 
chastening rod ; and not unfrequently kills the body to save 
the soul alive.* It was thus that the Most High dealt with 

Emma B , in bringing back the poor wanderer to the 

heavenly fold. 

The reader will recollect that, at the conclusion of the 
last chapter, allusion was made to a great effort which 
Emma put forth to write a letter to Mr. C , which re- 
sulted in a fainting fit, from which she did not recover for 
sometime. The circumstances were these. After receiving 
the letter addressed to her by the author, of which notice 
has been taken, Emma felt a great desire to convey to one 
who had taken so deep an interest in her eternal welfare, the 
assurance that she appreciated his kindness, and was not 
unmindful of the awful retributions of that eternity to which 
she was so rapidly hastening. Having been for a consi- 
derable period a member of the author's Bible class, and 
during that period having availed herself of frequent oppor 
tunities of attending upon the ministrations of the sanctuary 
where he officiated, she looked back upon that portion of 
her history with deep emotion, and felt rising within her 
sentiments of kindness towards him, not unlike those that 
she would have cherished to one who had sustained to hei 
the relation of a pastor ; and she wished to record, with her 
dying hand, her acknowledgment of gratitude to him, and 
her deep sense of her own guilt and vileness in the sight 
of God as a backslider. She nad thrown together a few 
thoughts, and had commenced arranging and copying them ; 
but in the midst of the effort, the fainting, which we have 
noticed, ensued, and she was never able to accomplish what 
she had undertaken. After her decease, there was sent to 
the author what she had commenced preparing as a com- 
munication to him. It is in an unfinished state ; but as it 

* Compare the 32d verse of the 11th chapter of the 1st Corinthian a, 
with the 30th verse, in connexion with the context. 
10* 



114 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Emma's last letter. 



is in her own handwriting, unfolding the sentiments of 
her own heart, it will be here inserted. 

" Dear Sir, — Your letter reached me just on the eve of 
my fulfilling that vow, on which I had so long and so 
shamefully trampled. 7/ afforded me great pleasure, inas- 
much as I felt grateful that you possessed the same interest 
for me that you ever had. But O ! it grieved me that you, 
whom, in looking back upon former years, I may be permit- 
ted to address in one sense, as my beloved pastor, should 
have been made acquainted with my great fall ; for I knew 
you would feel sincerely grieved, which is proved in your 
kind and admonitory letter. I am willing to bear the rebukes 
of my fellow Christians, to lose the good opinion of those I 
truly loved ; but that I should have been the unhappy instru- 
ment, in the hand of Satan, to injure the cause of my blessed 
Saviour ; that I should have encouraged scoffers and infidels, 
causes me to feel, when I kneel at the throne of grace, sor- 
row and shame which denies the utterance of words ! In 
reviewing my past life, there is one thing which appears 
to cast a gleam of hope across its dark and gloomy pros- 
pect. Never did I forget my God. Daily have I kneeled 
at the throne of mercy, and prayed for forgiveness, and to 
be renewed unto repentance. I am convinced that my al- 
mighty Father, in the greatness of his mercy, did not suffer 
me to neglect him altogether, and graciously condescended 
to heai my prayer. For in the painful and fatal disease, 
which like a flash of lightning seized me in the midst of 
health ar. 1 y->uth, I can see his hand snatching me from the 
abyss of ruin. Your letter gave me much comfort, wherein 
you urge l se to repentance. There are several passages 
in the New T.stament which have caused me a great deal 
of uneasiness. I allude to the fearful manner in which St. 
Paul speaks of apostasy. There are many young, profess- 
ing Christians, who like myself have entered into the plea- 
sures of this world, who yet have continued to kneel at the 
table of Christ. I could not pollute that table by going 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 115 

Emma's view of her past life. 

forward, when my life was so much at variance with the 
vow which I had taken when first I knel* there. I humbly 
ask you to consider these two cases. Is going to the com- 
munion table, and observing all the outward forms of reli- 
gion — is this all that is necessary in leading a religious 
life ? Ah, no ! This >s not the language of those pious 
counsels which you laboured so faithfully to impress upon 
our hearts. You would have said, ' Come not forward, thou 
hypocrite, to profane this holy communion !' It is useless for 
me to mention the many temptations which beset me even 
during my attendance at your church. The thought never en- 
tered into my heart that I should ever fall into those tempta- 
tions ; so I did not know my own weakness, nor the world's 
allurements. I relied too much upon my own strength. 

" My constant confinement to the house renders it im- 
possible, on my part, to perform those works of love and 
faith which every true Christian finds so much pleasure in 
discharging. Slight experience has taught me how much 
pleasure is to be derived from visiting the poor. Those 

few visits I made with Miss T were of more benefit 

to me in teaching me humility, and to be grateful for the 
many blessings I enjoyed, than any other duty. I do not 
feel myself equal to the task of finishing this letter. The 
unexpected pleasure of receiving a letter from you afforded 
me so much gratification, that I determined to make an 
effort to answer it. That it has been an effort the above 
lines plainly show. If in reading them it should appear to 
you that I wished to justify myself, you will be mistaken. 
No earthly being but myself can know the enormity of my 
sins. To me it appears there is not one hour of those 
years of sin that is not remembered. Can I not say with 
a backslider like myself, ' Have I not mingled in the festi- 
val ? Have I not courted pleasure in the brilliant assembly 
and crowded theatre, where beauty and wealth poured 
around their shining and fascinating attractions V And 
this is not all ; no eye but that of my God has looked into 



116 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Self-abasement. The backslider's prayer. 

my heart, and seen the vile and sinful thoughts that were 
there. How can I, whei< I consider these things, and then 
turn to the wonderful love of my blessed Saviour, how can 
I justify myself ! O no ! would that I could feel, far more 
than I do, how great a sinner I have been. O ! that you 
would pray for me that my sins may be forgiven ; that the 
Holy Spirit may cleanse me from all impurity; aid that, 
whether I live or die, I may overcome at the last. My 
earnest prayers shall ever be offered up for the happiness 
of yourself and family ; and if, indeed, we never meet again 
this side the grav , I trust that Jesus will support me that 
1 may meet you at his right hand." 

She had, at this time, the benefit of the counsel of a spiritu- 
ally minded pastor, who strove to direct all her contempla- 
tions heavenward. Doubtless his labours were eminently 
blessed in persuading her to return to the feet of that Re- 
deemer whom she had so wickedly deserted. The un- 
finished letter, to which the reader's attention has just been 
called, shows that she now saw this matter in a true light. 

It is an interesting and singular fact, that those who have 
once tasted that the Lord is gracious, when they wander 
from the narrow path, and live in known sin for which 
their conscience every hour rebukes them, seldom or ever be- 
come so hardened that they can make up their mind to live 
altogether without prayer. Their prayers under these cir- 
cumstances must necessarily be heartless, and offered rather 
with a view to soothe conscience, than to obtain the blessings 
asked for. O, should God deal with impenitent sinners and 
backsliding Christians according to their desert, how soon 
would perdition open her mouth and swallow them up ? It 
is because his compassions fail not that we are not con- 
sumed. Miss H , who visited Emma frequently, re- 
marks : " At this time her thoughts seemed fixed upon her 
own vileness, and to these sentiments, that dwelt con- 
stantly upon her mind, she gave utterance in conversation 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 117 



Christ the way. Prayer. 



with her friends. In such an humble, self-abased spirit, de- 
pressed with the sense of her sinfulness, constantly refer- 
ring to her backsliding, dear Emma long continued." 

Miss T , whose name has been already referred to, 

visited Emma freque. /*Jv at this time, and her visits were 
like refreshing showers in the summer's drought. Htr 
conversation was full of instruction, and indicated to this 
strayed one the precise path she should take to return to 
the fold. She showed her that Christ was the way. And 
in prayer she seemed to bear her to the very bosom of Jesus, 
who came to seek and save them that are lost. 

Miss H farther remarks in relation to Emma at this 

time, " Looking within, instead of turning her eye to the 
great sacrifice, and comparing her present state of coldness 
with the warmth of her former feelings, she found in the 
past only that which was calculated to awaken present 
doubt and fear. 

" ' O,' said she, 'how clear and simple was once the way 

of salvation ! Tell me, was there not in Mr. M a 

peculiar power of preaching Christ?' 

" I replied, ' There was indeed, dear Emma. The way 
of justification by faith, as exhibited by him, was so plain, 
that he who ran might read !' 

" * It was even so,' she responded ; 'tnivi ow, although I 
hear the words / am the way, I cannot seem to find it, and 
I fear at times I never shall. O, that I felt my sin more.' 

" She seemed to be afraid to gather comfort, even from 
God's word, and when we would quote to her the promises 
to the penitent she would confront us with the doom of the 
apostate. Yet I never doubted that she would be received 
at last into the joy of her Lord, for she was too humbled, 
too repentant, long to remain unblessed. She looked to 
God much in prayer, though she complained of the want 
of evidence that her petitions were accepted. * O ! it used 
to be so easy to pray,' she said, ' my soul mounted to meet 
my God ; but now, I feel at such a distance, it seems no 
longer prayer.' Hopes and fears now alternately shaded 



118 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Thoughts of death. Sense of sin. 

her mind, the desire of life, the possibility of recovering, 
the dread of death, all possessed her. She had a strong 
fear of the last struggle, and it was her frequent topic. 
1 You do not seem to dread it as I do,' she one day said. 

* Ah ! it is one thing to talk of it in health — ay, even to 
shadow forth its approach in imagination. I too have 
longed for death when wearied with the world, and I felt my 
affections strong in God ; but when it comes stealing on — 
when we have time to invest it with all its terrors — when 
the soul is not assured of her eternal rest — it is dreadful to 
die ! I cannot describe to you the utter desolation of my 
spirit, the morning that I fainted some weeks ago. I 
thought that I was dying, and that thought so filled my 
soul with horror that I could think of nothing else. I tell 
you,' she continued, with earnestness, « that I once rea- 
soned as you do ; but when I think of my early youth, my 
days unmarked with outward trial, when I think,' she 
said, her eyes filling with tears, ' of the green fields, and 
the blue sky, and remember that I must see them no more, 
I am sad.' 

" Upon my reminding her of the glory that is to be 
revealed, and the great sorrow of those who, dying later in 
life, leave many behind them to feel their loss, she replied, 

* True, it is better for me to go. O ! if 1 might say — I know 
that I shall enter into rest, all would be well.' 

" Notwithstanding Emma's deep sense of sin, she seemed 
desirous to feel it still more. ' You talk to me,' she said, 
'as if I could view it in a sufficiently awful light. How 
can I ever realize its vileness ? I pray to feel it till my 
soul is weighed down with it ; yes, even if it drove me to 
the verge of despair.' 

" * O ! not despair, Emma — your «ins cannot exceed His 
goodness.' 

" < God's goodness !' she repeated ; « O ! the Lord has 
ever been good to me, I have been the child of his provi- 
dence. He called me to Him, and gave me much, O ! how 
much of the joy of his presence : and when I forsook him 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. »l9 



Triumphant deaths. 



he led me to see all the nothingness of earth, and now ho 
is showing me what a poor worm I am.' 

" In answer to my wonder at her doubts, she replied, 
* O ! I do not doubt the Almighty's power — I do not doubt 
my Saviour's love, but I doubt myself. I fear to take too 
hastily, too presumptuously, to myself, words and promises 
which are not intended for me." 

** Speaking of triumphant deaths, she asked — ' Does it 
not seem strange to you that the dying hopes of very 
steadfast believers seem to be sometimes so clouded — and 
yet many, who on a sick bed first know the Lord, go 
rejoicing.' 

" I referred to the first sense of p<adoned sin, as in some 
measure accounting for it. 

" ■ True,' she said, ' and then such have not yet experi- 
enced the deceitfulness of sin, and of their own hearts. 
They have not yet fallen into temptation. O there is some- 
thing in this sense of backsliding that falls like a mountain's 
weight upon the spirit, and almost prevents it from so much 
as lifting up the eyes unto God.' 

" I thought of the publican, and felt that she was already 
justified in the sight of Him who knoweth what is in man." 



I^C GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Hopes in death. 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE ISSUE. 



I the Lord have brought down the high tree, have exalted the low 
tr*?e, have dried up the green tree, and have made the dry tree to 
flourish. From the prophet Ezekiel. 

As we advance in this narrative, we shall find increased 
evidence that God was smiting to the dust the youthful 
form of Emma that he might fit her soul to bloom in im- 
mortal freshness and beauty in the paradise above. It was 
only by the awful stroke which brought death to the mor- 
tal part that this withered branch could be revived. All 
that follows will show that the expiring flame of spiritual 
existence was now rekindled, and that the Holy Spirit was 
preparing her for an entrance into the eternal kingdom. I 
am not at all surprised, however, that Emma, in her last 
hours, was not favoured with any remarkable seasons of 
rapturous enjoyment. I should have been greatly sur- 
prised had she gone off very triumphant. I believe it is 
Cecil that remarks, that he never expected to witness the 
evidence of a calm and triumphant hope when called to 
visit a worldly minded Christian on his death-bed. In the 
very nature of things, there must be much darkness, in a 
dying hour, in that mind that has followed Christ " afar off," 
and been seeking all along its principal comforts from the 
world. This, we might expect, would be eminently the 
case where the professed follower of the Redeemer had 
fallen into open apostasy ; and, though subsequently re- 
claimed, and humbled at the foot of the cross, it could not 
oe expected, from God's usual mode of dealing with hid 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 121 



Payson's contemplation of death. 



creatures, that such a one would enjoy extraordinary light 
or unclouded hope in passing through the shaded valley. 
Sufficient, for all the purposes of mercy, would it be, if the 
returning penitent received such tokens of pardoning love 
as would enable him to indulge a trembling hope of his 
acceptance, while he continued to lie prostrate at the foot 
of the cross in the attitude of a lost and perishing sinner. 

It is only those who have long lived very near God — 
whose walk has been undeviatingly close with him — who 
can expect to go off with such language as this : "I can 
find no words to express my happiness. I seem to be 
swimming in a river of pleasure, which is carrying me on- 
ward to the great fountain. God is literally my all in all. 
If he is present with me, no want can in the least diminish 
my happiness ; and were all the world at my feet, trying 
to administer to my comfort, they could not add one drop 
to the cup. The celestial city is now full in my view. Its 
glories beam upon me — its breezes fan me — its odours art 
wafted to me — its sounds strike upon my ears — and ita 
spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me 
from it but the river of death ; and this appears but an in- 
significant rill, that may be crossed at a single step, when- 
ever God shall give permission." Such was the language 
of the dying Payson — of one who had made it the great 
and unceasing business of his ivhole life to walk so as tc 
please God. He had no hope but what was in Christ : 
and, in his mortal hour, Christ shone gloriously upon hmt. 

The following record of Emma's last hours will show 
that her Lord, notwithstanding all her wanderings, dealt 
very graciously with her. 

Her friend, Miss H , having described the lowliness 

of her humility, and the depth of her self-abasement, re- 
marks — " It was soon after this that she beg^r. to find joy 
in believing. 

" * I think,' she said, with a solemn earnestness, when 
I inquired of her, ' I may say, thou Lord hast not cast 
me off for ever. Yes, I do feel that God has heard my 
11 



I 22 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Submi-sion. Worldly conformity. 



prayer, and 1 am again his child. I grew weary of myself. 
I laid myself at the Saviour's feet, and peace dawned 
upon me.' 

" I was not surprised when she told me this, for the 
twilight had been long brightening ; and I knew that 
the rising of the Sun of righteousness must be near 
From this time Emma seemed to grow in heavenly wis- 
dom ; but the peace of mind she experienced so changed 
her countenance that, for a while, the hope of her re- 
covery animated her friends, and even affected herself. 
I think this uncertainty took much from her spiritual 
enjoyment. She could not think of life as if she could 
ever be called to enter upon its duties ; nor yet did the 
prospect of her speedy deliverance from sin and death 
serve to fix her thoughts on the hereafter. She spoke 
much of what she trusted to be if she ever returned to 
the world. ' I hope,' she said, ' if I do, that I shall live 
more becoming my profession. But I would rather die as 
I am than live as I have done. O ! not for worlds would 
I again forsake mv God.' 

" The severe weather now affected her bodily frame, and 
she was several times very ill ; still her decay was so gra- 
dual, that no change would be noted during many weeks. 
Various were the sv:ljects of our conversation during seve- 
ral subsequent visits. As in former days, we often spoke 
of Mr. ; but now she was the listener ; she would de- 
lightfully hear the frequent accounts I was enabled to give 
her of the svccess of his labours. Referring to the kind- 
nesses she had recei/il rom him in times past, she would 
prayerfully thank thj Lord for the tidings I brought her, 
and looked to tht possibility of his visiting New York with 
exceeding interest. Once or twice, we had long conversa- 
tions on the s.bject of conformity to the world, particularly 
in dress. She strongly reprobated the idea of breaking 
down the « middle wall of partition' which God had set be- 
tween his children and the world ; but said, she thought 
that extreme strictness in minutiae often injured the causa 



1 

i 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 123 

Declining health. 

of religion ; that she felt there was such a thing as going 
too far the other way, and thus obliging those around us to 
believe that religion was a thing incompatible with the en- 
joyment of even the common blessings which God has 
abundantly given us. 

44 As the winter advanced, her hold on life weakened, 
and, before the early spring, she appeared to feel that health 
was never to be hers. The prospect did not, as before, 
affect her sadly ; but her dread of the last struggle, and her 
anticipation of coming pain, seemed to increase. On ask- 
ing her how she felt, one day, she replied, ' I do not li«.t 
to say, my sufferings. With Anzonetta* I can s-ay, " My 
Saviour suffered ;" but my cough is violent, and I do ex- 
perience much bodily pain ; still, it is the future I di« >.*.. 
I think I shall die very hard — do you not ?' 

" I replied, 4 No. I think yours will be an easy death 
and that you will fall gently asleep in the arms of Jesus. 
To him alone you must look.' 

44 On Sunday, the 26th of April, Emma appeared to sink 
rapidly ; her depression of spirits, and her fear of death, 

still continuing, she sent for Miss T , believing that 

the enemy was near ; but on the morrow she revived, and 

partook of the communion at the hands of Dr. H , then 

just returned from the south. She felt much strengthened, 
as well by his conversation as by the sacrament. I found 
her a day or two afterwards in a trusting spirit, but rather 
depressed, that as yet her prayers in reference to the remo- 
val of this dread of death were not answered. Gathering 
comfort to my own soul from the words of Scripture on 
this head, I spoke to her of the Saviour's agony, and his 
evident shrinking ; and although we both felt the difference 
between the load of sin which he bore for us, and ours 

* She referred here to Anzoxetta R. Peters, who had given such 
wonderful evidence of divine suppoit through a long sickness, and hi 
her dying hour. The author has now in preparation an extended 
memoir of this young saint, a brief sketch of whom was drawn in tht 
last chapter of "The Pastor's Testimony" 



124 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



Wna have I cone for God 1 View of heaven. 

which we were directed to cast upon him, we acknowledged 
there was consolation in the thought. 

"Job's many prayers for life recurred to me. She said, 
4 How often you quote from Job ; I know very little of that 
book. Indeed, I never thought that I could obtain so much 
encouragement from his experience as your present refer- 
ence has given me. When I hear you so readily bring the 
wo ds of Scripture to prove what you say, I wonder that I 
know so little of it.' 

*■' Upon my remarking, that the vocation of a Sunday- 
school teacher brought it often to the memory, she an- 
swered with a sigh, 

" ' Yes ; you have gone on in the way, so far at least 
ss outward works, without ceasing ; but I, what have I 
done for God ? What shall I do ? Nothing, emphatically 
nothing.' 

" ' Not so, Emma ; God is permitting you before you de- 
part to glorify him in sickness. He is enabling you to be 
a preacher of righteousness to your family.' 

" ' God grant me that blessing,' she said, fervently ; ' I do 
believe the Lord is beginning a good work in their hearts, 
and I have much faith that he will carry it on.' 

" At her request I besought, for her, grace for a dying 
day. I felt that God was very present then, and I believe 
that Emma felt so too ; for she said, as I rose, with a look 
that seemed to pierce the very heavens, * Blessed prayer ! 
how near it brings us to God !' There was a childlike 
simplicity in her manner, that reminded me of David's 
words, * My soul is even as a weaned child.' I wept; she 
seemed distressed, and said, — 

" ' You must not do so, and yet the Saviour's eyes were 
bedewed with tears.' A smile passed over her face as she 
continued, ' You know I shall soon be happy ; come, look 
up, you often comfort me, I will comfort you ; there shall 
be no more tears where I am going.' I did indeed lookup 
for I had seldom heard her speak with such assured faith. 
The half hour that followed was one of the happiest 






THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 1'25 

Hope of glory. Paternal relation. 

ever passed with Emma. Evidently she was ripening for 
glory. 

" Anxious to know how she had been carried through 
her change of residence, I visited her the first Monday 
in May. It was a time never to be forgotten, for the 
same sweet spirit of childlike confidence and simplicity 
remained. The fear of dissolution was for the time 
removed, and she seemed to stand on the borders of the 
promised land. She had greatly feared that her death 
would occur before the removal of the family, and felt 
very grateful when it was the evident intention of her 
Lord to allow her to go through it with comfort. I found 
her sitting up near a window, from which a view of the 
river and the seminary was visible. She said, * Is not this 
beautiful? So like the country ; yet do you know, instead 
of making me wish to stay, it only reminds me of the little 
step between me and everlasting life. I look up at the blue 
sky and think of Him who dwelleth beyond it, and it 
seems but a little way for the spirit to ascend.' She talked 
constantly this afternoon. I remember it, not only because 
it was the last time she spoke above a whisper, but it was 
also the last time that her joy was cloudless. She spoke 
much of her parents, much of their love and care for her 
during her sickness. ' I thank God for them besides,' she 
said, ' because they make me understand him better ; my 
mother's unceasing, anxious care, he tells me cannot com- 
pare with His. My father's tenderness reminds me of my 
heavenly Father — all love, all compassion, and O reviving 
thought ! all might ! Yes, Lord, I do rejoice in thee as my 
Father!' She dwelt long on this, tracing God's dealings 
with her as an indulgent yet chastening parent, and then 
looked upward with such a glow of devotion, such an 
intensity of feeling depicted on her countenance, as I never 
saw equalkd. Again she said, 'I have been thinking of 
the words of the hymn, The Dying Christian to his Soui 

Hark ! they whisper, angels say, 
Sister spirit ! come away ; 
11* 



126 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Communion of saints. 

and it seems to me almost that I hear the sound of their 
melodies, and the silver tone of that summons, 

•Sister spirit ! come away. 

Sister spirit ! yes, I do feel that I shall soon go with those 
who call to me even now, come away /' Descending as it 
were from this foretaste of heaven, she asked after Mr. 
C , and expressed a strong desire to receive the com- 
munion when he came : mentioned Mr. P , C , and 

one or two others that she would like with her. 

" ' O,' she said, ' it would be delightful in such fellow- 
ship to commune again; most solemn, most profitable, I feel 
it would be.' She then inquired particularly concerning 

the Sunday-school of St. , mentioning many of its 

former members, and expressing a prayerful desire for its 
spiritual prosperity. On the following Tuesday our beloved 

pastor, Mr. C , arrived. I hastened to inform her, but 

found her too weak to bear the excitement of the adminis- 
tration of the communion. ' My mother,' she said, * I be- 
lieve thinks my spirit may depart, and although to me it 
might be joy thus to exchange the communion of the 
visible for that of the invisible church, it would be very 
distressing to you all.' 

" When I next saw Emma she was unable to speak 
above a whisper, so that I could not take so much interest 
in her remarks, for she still continued to converse. She 

expressed much pleasure in having again seen Mr. C , 

and then said, ' Now that this my anxious desire has been 
gratified, now that I have seen my kind, watchful friend, I 

would also see Mr. M . Do you think, if I live until 

his return, that he will come and see me ?' " 

The interview, to which reference in the preceding re- 
marks is made, was to me one of deep and solemn interest 
Being again in the neighbourhood of Emma, and hearing 
that life still continued to linger in her emaciated frame, like 
the nickering blaze of an expiring wick in the wasted socket, 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 127 

Interview with Emma. Retrospect. 

I felt an earnest desire to see her again before her fina. 
exit. I also learned that she had sent a very urgent re- 
quest that I would not fail to pay her a visit. The onl; 
time at my disposal, which I purposed to devote to Emma, 
was Thursday afternoon. The weather was exceedingly 
unpropitious. The rain descended in torrents, threatening 
to overwhelm every thing with a flood. I did not, how- 
ever, allow myself to be diverted from my purpose, but 
persevered in defiance of the storm, and fcund myself 
richly repaid for the effort which it had cost. 

The emotions that thronged my bosom, as I entered the 
sick and dying chamber of Emma, I cannot describe. 
There was one thought, however, that combined itself with 
a scriptural expression, and made me exclaim to myself, 
* Here is a brand plucked from the burning.' Emma was 
reposing in an easy chair, and appeared exceedingly pale 
and thin. And yet there was the impress of all that was 
sweet and lovely upon her countenance still. A smile lit 
up her features, as though to welcome me, and yet in a 
moment it was chased away by a cloud that seemed to 
come with bitter remembrances over her pale, but still 
beautiful countenance. In our conversation I endeavoured 
to touch upon those points that I thought would be most 
useful to her in her present state of mind, and her present 
vicinity to the eternal world. She could converse out little. 
As I incidentally adverted to the past, her eyes filled with 
tears, and she said at intervals, — 

" O, what a monument I am of the listinguishing 
grace of God ! How had I wandered from him ! How 
richly did I deserve to have been left to * eat the fruit 
of my own ways, and be filled with my own devices." 
But yet, after all, I hope he has had mercy on me, 
and restored me to his favour. Sometimes, in view 
of my ingratitude, my vileness, and my guilt, I am 
ready to think that mercy can never stoop so low as it 
take me out of this horrible pit into which I had fallen. 
But, as I continue to cry unto the Lord, and wait patiently 



128 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 






Peace in belier.ng. Presence of God. Consumption. 

on him, the light comes in upon my darkened mind ; and I 
cannot but indulge the trembling hope, that the blood of 
Jesus Christ will cleanse even my soul from all sin." 

While this last thought was expressed, there played 
upon her features a smile, that gave to her whole counte- 
nance so sweet, and subdued, and heavenly a look that 1 
could not but say to myself, * Surely the Lord hath marked 
thee for his own child.' After this conversation, I knelt 
down and prayed. Her mother and two sisters were pre- 
sent. The place seemed filled with the presence of God; 
and I have rarely enjoyed more delightful communion with 
him than in the act of invoking his mercy upon this his 
returning child, and entreating him to sanctify her sickness 
and death to the spiritual and eternal welfare of her family 
friends. I then took my leave, feeling that I should see 
her no more till we met in the eternal world. 

Miss H continued to visit her frequently, who 

remarks in relation to one of her subsequent calls, — 

" Her remarks then turned on the state of the redeemed 
in heaven ; but she was so frequently interrupted by vio 
lent turns of coughing that it pained me to hear her speak. 

" « !' said she, ' if ever you feel it right to pray foi 
a temporal blessing, ask that you may not die under the 
slow and awful ravages of consumption. I know not how 
it may be with you ; but I have often heard young persons, 
in talking of death, express a wish that this might be the 
disease by which they were to be brought down to the 
grave. I have often expressed such a wish.' 

" I replied, * Do you think they do so because they 
imagine it an easy death, or because they think it gives a 
long time for preparation V 

" ' Both, perhaps,' she answered, ' but principally the 
latter. But, O ! both are mistaken ideas. The exhaus- 
tion, the debility, the weariness, and then the cough, the 
constant cough and oppression of breathing, not to speak 
of other things, make life a very burden. I feel that God 
is very good in giving me comparatively easy nights ; bu* 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 12U 

Repentance on a sick bed. Prayer. 

for the other idea — how I wish that my words could reach 
the heart of every living and breathing mortal that now re- 
joices in health : it is no time to prepare for eternity when 
the mind is taken up with the body's ailments. It is diffi- 
cult enough to fix our thoughts on the rest into which we 
know that we shall enter ; but when the soul has to deter- 
mine the question, '''■What shall I do to be saved?'''' O ! 
it is hard indeed to find the truth.' 

" I saw no change in her, for some time after this, save 
that she became more languid, and less able to converse. 
I recollect, once, her speaking of the Trinity, and the ap- 
portioning of the work of redemption, as being to her mind 
* beautiful, so clear, so like God in its perfection.' There 
is one thing to which I would particularly call the atten- 
tion : she never neglected prayer, even during the days 
which she spent in vanity. 'It was this, I believe,' she 
said, one day, 4 that kept me from falling - quite away ; and 
when that night — that dreadful night — came, when disease 
seized me, I said, and I felt, Lord, thy will be done.' 
Through all the days of her protracted sickness, she ob- 
served an hour of prayer. The very day preceding hei 
death, she neglected not this set time of devotion." 

Perhaps I can in no way better present to the reader an 
idea of the last moments of Emma than by inserting an 
extract from a letter, which I received, shortly after her de- 
cease, from the same individual by whose kindness I have 
been furnished with many of the preceding facts. Having 
adverted to Emma B , she remarks, — 

"Dear, glorified, happy Emma! Yes, Emma sleeps; 
she has fought the good fight — the victory won. A great 
change, in the extent and degree of her sufferings, occurred 
about ten days since. Her throat became so much affect- 
ed, and so painful as to deprive her of the possibility 
of swallowing. After this she sank rapidly. It was sup- 
posed that an abscess had there formed ; and her fears of 
suffocation were very great. She had, for some time, beep 



130 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Approach of death. Want of the divine presence. 

unable to speak above a whisper ; but now for her to com 
municate in any way was exceedingly difficult. Like 
Anzonetta, » she suffered hunger and thirst,' without the 
i <uver of alleviating them. It appears to me that her 
bodily pains Lave been, during the last week, excruciating 
She remarked, ' All that I have suffered before has been as 
nothing to this.' 

" Last Thursday I visited her. She was asleep when I 
entered ; and I was painfully struck with the change that a 
lew days had made. There was upon her countenance a 
death-like and agonized expression. She awoke, very 
suddenly, while I stood bending over her, and a bright look 
of pleasure seemed to kindle up upon her face. It did not 
remain, however, but for a moment. It was as fleeting as 
a meteor. After some inquiries, relative to her bodily pains, 
I said, — 

44 * And the r»ir_d, Emma — how is that?' 

" She r..ised her eyes, and, clasping her hands, said, 
4 My trust is very firm ; but it does seem as if the Al- 
mighty kept his presence from me ; and my heart is so 
cold.' 

" She seemed exhausted even with these few words. 
After a pause, I said something encouraging to her. 

" ' But,' said she, mournfully, 4 if I should be deceived !' 

" I asked her in whom she trusted. 

•' ' In my Saviour.' 

" 4 Do you place any trust in your own works, Emma?' 

" She suddenly shrunk from the thought. 

" ' Then, Emma, how can you be deceived in Him who 
is love and truth itself?' 

" At this moment it seemed to me as if a dark shade 
came over her, and she raised her eyes with such an affect- 
mgly helpless look, that I could scarce bear it. 

44 4 Emma, my darling Emma !' said Mrs. B , hei 

mother, 4 what is the matter ?' 

44 4 Raise me.' 

" 4 But what is it ?' 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. fc3 

Shrinking from death. 

" * Such shrinking from deatn — so afraid to die,' sha 
twice repeated. 

" I feared that the moment of her departure was come ; 
but it was not so. A severe couching spell came on. 

" * Hard to bear,' she whispered ; and then, exhausted, 
sank on her pillow. 

" I repeated, 

' Jesus can make a dying bed, 
Feel soft as downy pillows are.' 

" * True,' she said ; then whispered, * read, read.' 

" I took the Bible which lay by her, and commenced 
reading some passages. 

" « The 43d of Isaiah,' she faintly said. 

" I then read as follows : — But now thus saith the Lord 
that created thee, O Jacob, and he that formed thee, O 
Israel: Fear not; for I have redeemed thee, I have called 
thee by thy name ; thou art mine. When thou passest 
through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the 
rivers, they shall not overflow thee. When thou walkest 
through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt ; neither shall 
the flame kindle upon thee ; for I am the Lord thy God, 
the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour. 

" I then read several other promises from the same pro- 
phet : — * Fear not, for thou shalt not be ashamed : neither 
shalt thou be confounded. Thy Maker is thy husband ; 
the Lord of hosts is his name : and thy Redeemer, the Holy 
One of Israel ; the God of the whole earth shall he be 
called. For the Lord hath called thee as a woman for- 
saken and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when 
thou wast refused, saith thy God. For a small moment 
have I forsaken thee ; but with great mercies will I gather 
thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a mo- 
ment : but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on 
thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. For this is as the 
waters of Noah unto me : for as I have sworn that the 



132 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Ivivine promises. Gleams of hope. 



waters of Noah should no more go over the earth ; so have 
I sworn, that I would not be wroth with thee, nor rebuke 
thee. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be 
removed ; but my kindness shall not depart from thee ; 
1 either shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith 
tne Lord that hath mercy on thee. O thou afflicted, tossed 
with tempest, and not comforted! behold, I will lay thy 
stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with sap- 
phires.' After reading these and other promises, I inquired, 

" * Are not these precious promises, Emma ?' 

* ; 'Precious, and strong — very precious,' she replied. 

" ■ Can you not trust in them ?' 

" < Yes.' 

" On Saturday I again saw her ; life was just glimmer- 
ing. She was very faint, and made signs, as soon as I 
came in, for me to seat myself at the foot of the bed ; and 
then to read. : read some promises from the little book 
called ' Heaveniv Manna.' 

" ' The Bible ' said she. 

" I took the Bible, and commenced reading. I paused 
after a few moments, she seemed so very weak : the words 
she next repeated affected me to tears. I marvelled that 
she could so forget self. She said to her sisters, in broken 

accent*, ' A draught of cool water for Miss H to drink ; 

she must be faint and dry.' When they had complied 
with her request, she motioned for me to continue. At 
length she said, ' That will do.' She seemed to be en- 
gaged in prayer almost all the time. 

" At length I bent over her. ' How are your hopes, 
Emma V 

" ' My confidence is not removed V Then she said, at 
intervals, 

" * It has pleased the Lord to give me much patience 
and resignation to his blessed will ; but he does not shinu 
upon me. I do not feel the joy of his presence.' 

" * But he will come, Emma, and will not tarry.' 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 133 

The last moments and death of Emma. 

" ' I trust so.' 

44 I told her we had been praying for her at the meeting 

" ' I trust your prayers were heard,' she said. 

" I knelt down by her, and read some passages frorL 
Revelations. She listened earnestly; and then seemed 
again engaged in mental prayer. 

" ' Short prayer,' she whispered. 

" Then we knelt ; and I prayed with faith, I believe, 
that she might yet joy in her salvation. Kissing her fare- 
well, I left her. 

" * Come again,' she said. 

44 Again I bent my steps to Emma's ; but the freed 
spirit was already singing the song of Moses and the Lamb. 
She died at five o'clock, Monday morning, June 15th. 

Mrs. B said, that she was very restless all Sunday and 

Sunday night, suffering extremely from thirst, but unable 
to swallow. She spoke, when questioned, on Sunday ; 
and remarked the day, and said, — 

" ' How, and where, shall I be next Sunday V 

44 At four o'clock on Monday morning, Mrs. B ob- 
served a great change, and summoned the family. She 
said, Emma had not been turned for fear of bringing on 
her coughing spell ; but at this moment she turned towards 
the light without any assistance. Her countenance looked 
troubled. After a few moments Mrs. B said, — 

44 * If you know me, Emma, press my hand.' 

" She did so, and with a strong grasp. 

" Anxious to ascertain the state of her feelings, Mrs. 
B said, ' Are you happy aow^ my Emma V 

" ' O, yes !' she said, with animation ; and then came 
on a gasping for breath : and then she was gone ! She 
had departed ! She was with the Lamb ; walking in the 
iight of the eternal city : no more to wander from him who 
loved her with an everlasting love. 

44 1 had thought that Emma would die triumphantly • 
out when I recall her extreme weakness and suffering, and 
think, that despite her pains of body, her fearful death, he/ 

12 



134 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Backsliding an insidious disease. 

want of the sensible presence of her Saviour, that her faith 
wavered not, I am almost ready to call it the high triumph 
of that living principle. Her's was the language of Job : — 
1 Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' As it is, I 
feel perfectly satisfied that she will ' hunger no more ; nei- 
ther thirst any more : but God shall wipe away all tears 
from her eyes.' " 

There will occur to the reader, from what has been pre- 
viously remarked, several reasons why it might not be con- 
sistent with the divine purpose to grant, to one who had so 
fearfully drawn back, a very triumphant and rapturous 
exit. God intends to convey a lesson of moral instruction 
by all his dealings with the children of men. While, 
therefore, he enabled this returning penitent to cherish a 
good and well grounded hope of her acceptance, he, at the 
same time, meant to connect with the doubts that occasion- 
ally darkened her mind, and the fears that disturbed the 
tranquillity of her soul, an admonition to all who have 
named the name of Christ, never to turn back from their 
course. 

One has very truly remarked, that " Backsliding is a dis- 
ease that is exceeding secret in its way of working. It is 
a flattering distemper ; it works like a consumption, wherein 
persons often flatter themselves that they are not worse, 
but something better, and in a hopeful way to recover, till 
a few days before they die. So backsliding commonly 
comes on gradually, and steals on men insensibly, and they 
still flatter themselves that they are not backslidden."* 

This idea is one that I think is important to be presented 
distinctly to the reader, — that a person may have declined 
most fearfully in religion, and yet be flattering himself that 
all is well. Wherever religion ceases to be the main busi- 
ness of life — wherever there exists a growing disregard to 
the means and opportunities of grace — wherever there is 

* President Edwards' Works, vol. vi. p. 57. 



THE WITHERED BRANCH REVIVED. 13i 



Symptoms of decline in religion. 



any loss of tenderness of conscience — whe*--^; {here 
springs up a desire to be conformed to the v. ;> lo — wher- 
ever there is a diminished desire to exert one's «eif for God 
— wherever progress in the divine life ceases, theie already 
has commenced the first insidious ravages of this fatal dis- 
ease. The man has already begun to draw back. 

How stands the case with you, dear reader ; Does the 
piercing eye of God, whose glance reaches dovn to the 
very deepest recesses of your heart, behold in you no 
symptoms of decay or decline in religion ? If we would 
judge ourselves, we should not be judged. 

In contemplating the history of Emma B -, though 

but a very imperfect sketch has now been drawn vho is 
not ready to exclaim, " Behold the goodness and everity 
of God ! O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom 
and knowledge of God ! How unsearchable a'e his judg- 
ments, and his ways past finding out !" A sickness unto 
death was probably the only means that could have brought 
her back to her father's house. And, therefore, the Lord 
in mercy stretched forth his hand, and touched her frame 
with the palsying blight of death. And this he did, because 
in his everlasting love, and in the sovereignty of his abound- 
ing grace, he had determined to save her soul from death. 

Perhaps these pages may be read by some professed fol- 
lower of Christ, who in fact may have fallen as far away 
from God, as ever did the subject of this brief notice. 
And yet this backsliding one may be saying, •■ I am rich, 
and increased with goods, and have need of nothing." 
It has sometimes fallen in our v/ay t( meet with rhose who 
are trying to wear the livery cf Chrurt, and can\ Vie 
badges of discipleship with them into the m.dst of all the 
gayeties, and fashion, and folly of the world. Such per- 
sons might feel wmnded, were their cLam« 'o the Chris- 
tian character questioned. There w a dav coning when 
those claims will be impartial!*' eT«m:nw * Should ihese 
pages meet the eye of any such one, may 1 be permittea 
to say, « My dear friend, let this sketch which I have 



136 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Use to be made of this narrative by the reader. 

drawn be a mirror in which you will see the bitterness and 
sorrow of y >ur latter end. For if the Lord does not make 
you feel before your mortal hour how bitter and evil a 
thing it is to depart from him, let me tell you, that you will 
lie down at last in eternal sorrow." 

Reader, have you declined in any degree from the fer- 
vour of that love which characterized you when you first 
gave yourself up in covenant to God ? From this sketch, 
see, O see, how easy it is to violate your covenant vows, 
and to slide back into the very midst of the world. 

Do you feel compelled to write yourself a backslider? 
Have you already departed very far from the Lord ? There 
is then no time to be lost. If you do not return imrne* 
diately, your covenant God may have to smite you down 
with death. When tempted to wander from the Lord, dc 
not forget what it cost to revive the withered branch. 



THE BAPTISM. 






CHAPTER I. 

AN EXTINCT PARISH. 

" The love of nature, and the scenes she draws, 
Is nature's dictate." — Coivper. 

They who have never visited the country of the west- 
ern lakes can scarcely conceive the vastness, and grand- 
eur, and magnificence of those inland seas. So rich and 
fertile are the shores that are washed by their waves, thai 
like the river that watered the garden of Eden, this noble 
chain of lakes may be said to water the garden of the 
world. It was in one of the summer months, just as the 
last bright rays of the sun, already sunk below the horizon, 
were fading away in the western sky, that the writer of 
these pages was approaching a small village situated on one 
of those lakes. 

There was that delightful repose and quietude, which are 
peculiar to a country scene at the close of a hot summer's 
day, spread over the whole extended landscape, through 
which the road, that led to the village, lay. I have often 
thought that this sweet calm of nature was beautifully 
emblematical, not only of the peace and serenity which is 
spread over the Christian's soul at the hour of death, but 
of that sacred and eternal " rest which remaineth to the 
people of God. 91 

As I passed along, the laborious cultivator of the earth 
was just quitting the harvest field, or Vending his course 
12* 137 



136 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Rural life. A scene of transcendent sublimity. 

homeward with slow and weary step, or standing at the 
door of his farm-house, preparing to refresh himself, after 
the toils of the day, on that plain, but substantial meal 
which constitutes *« d husbandman's evening repast. 

The country around me might still be denominated new, 
but was in a considerably advanced state of cultivation. 
The rich fields of grain, the luxuriant growth of grass, and 
the occasional thickets of tall and massive forest trees, be- 
spoke the fertility and strength of the soil, and spread out 
before the delighted eye a beautiful and varied landscape. 

Neither the lake nor village was yet visible, although I 
knew them to be in the direction in which I was travelling. 
I had just entered a deep, but narrow ravine, where I found 
myself at once completely shut out from the view of the 
cultivated country through which I had previously been 
passing. As I ascended the opposite bank, I found the road 
enclosed by a sort of lofty copse, which, being interspersed 
*vhh forest trees, formed a complete arbour, under which 
«.hc traveller passed. What added still more to the effect 
??f this novel and highly romantic scene, was the circuitous 
•tvt-eetion of the road. Winding with serpentine course 
r.ound a hill which it ascended, it conducted the traveller 
gradually, to the top, without disclosing to his view at any 
one time more than a few yards of its course, — till having 
reached the summit, he beheld in an instant, spread out be- 
fore his astonished eye, one broad and almost boundless 
expanse of waters. Nothing could exceed the effect pro- 
duced by this unexpected disclosure of transcendent sub- 
limity. The heart that was not touched with deep feeling 
and lifted up in adoration to God, in view of this scene, 
must have been alike destitute of taste and of moral sensi- 
bility. 

An occurrence related to me by a gentleman residing in 
the neighbourhood of this place, may serve to illustrate the 
the idea just expressed. 

A party of gentlemen, who were fond of viewing scenery 
in which the bold and beautiful, the sweet and sublim« 



THE BAPTISM. 139 



The effect of a sublime scene. Divine worship. 



were brought before the eye in close connexion, went out 
to take a view of the lake from this point. Among the 
number was a gentleman from Scotland. He wa« cne who 
possessed a highly cultivated mind ; had res;^ rsr.: h, and 
travelled far. It so happened, and that rather ?.••'• ».i;"itally, 
that he had not been previously apprized of *ner<.. being 
any thing peculiarly striking in the first view cf '.he lake 
from this particular point. He was, therefore, tot* liy un 
prepared for that majestic scene, which, with the ?udden 
ness of magic, burst upon his view. So perfectly ovei^ 
powered was he, at the moment, that he flung himself from 
his horse, and gazing in enraptured admiration, on his 
bended knees, and aloud, returned thanks to Almighty God 
for having spared his life to behold so grand and majestic a 
display of his works. 

The village, which was the place of my destination, lay 
about half a mile to the left. As I approached it, I could 
ee, in different directions, little groups moving towards 
he church, an edifice, at times, occupied by all denomina- 
t. ms. The celebration of divine worship, according to the 
usages of the Episcopal church, was an event of such rare 
occurrence, in this place, that the previous intelligence, that 
an Episcopal missionary was to officiate that evening, had 
drawn together an unusually large congregation. The 
church was already full when I arrived, and I immediately 
commenced that truly sublime service, which can hardly 
fail to spread the deepest solemnity over any congregation. 
I had advanced in the service to the " General Confes- 
sion" and now paused, after repeating the first sentence 
of that humble and self-abasing address to Almighty God. 
1 knew not that a single voice would utter the response. 
But no sooner had that sentence been pronounced, than 
two or three voices caught it up, and reiterated, in trem- 
bling and faltering accents, those solemn words. As the 
service proceeded, the voices of those who responded began 
to multiply, and become more firm and animated. 

There had been, as I subsequently learnt, some fifteen 



140 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The importance of contributing of our abundance 



years previous to this time, an Episcopal congregation 
organized in this place. For a while the church was pros- 
perous. But now it was completely broken up ; and the 
remembrance that it had ever existed had passed from the 
minds of most of the inhabitants of that village. Will it 
be inquired what was the cause of the disastrous fate that 
attended this society ? 

We answer, precisely that which has defeated the suc- 
cess, and withered the bright prospects, of hundreds of 
other congregations similarly situated — the want of a little 
pecuniary aid, and of a faithful missionary. It would 
be well for those who live in the midst of religious privi- 
leges to bear in mind the fact, that, in the new and thinly 
settled parts of our country, the ministrations of the word 
cannot be continued without aid from the older and well 
established churches. While we should not relax our 
fforts, one iota, to extend the gospel to the heathen, we 
certainly ought not to forget those of our own household 
who are perishing for lack of knowledge. If the friends 
and members of the church, who enjoy all its privileges, 
and join, Sunday after Sunday, in its devout and affecting 
liturgy, and who, perhaps, are surrounded with ease and 
affluence ; if they could see the sad desolations of Zion ; if 
they could see them, in all their length and breadth, as the 
missionary often does ; if they could see how many of their 
brethren are totally deprived of those religious privileges 
which they enjoy; if they could see those little groups of 
devoted men which, scattered here and there over the moral 
desert that spreads all around them, are making a prodi- 
gious effort to collect and organize a congregation that may 
be favoured with regular ministrations according to the 
order and appointment of their own church; and, after 
having laboured, and toiled, and spent many months of in- 
tense anxiety, and, for a while, cheered themselves with 
the hope of ultimate success, are at last forced to give up 
their darling project, and sit down, in utter despair, like 
Hagar in the wilderness, who. when her bottle of wate? 



THE BAPTISM. 141 



To sustain new and feeble parishes. 



was spent, cast her perishing chi?d under one of the shrubs 
" and sat over against him, and lifted her voice and wept ;" 
surely, if they who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sin- 
cerity, could see, and know, and understand all this, their 
hearts would be opened — an abundance of pecuniary means 
would speedily flow into the treasury of the Lord, and the 
ways of Zion would no longer mourn. And here, let me 
add, if the reader of these pages shall be impressed with 
the conviction that the subject of domestic missions ought 
to occupy a wider space in his thoughts, and have a larger 
share of his attention than it has hitherto done, let him not 
satisfy himself with this naked theoretic conclusion ; let 
him evince his sincerity by immediate action ; let him 
bring his offering, if it be but a single mite, to the treasury 
of the Lord ; and, when he has given all that he deems it 
his duty to this object, let him not forget the waste places 
of Zion when he kneels at the family altar, nor when he 
goes up to the temple of the Lord to enjoy the rich ministra- 
tions of his word. When Christians, generally, feel more 
sympathy for these fields of spiritual destitution — when 
they evince greater solicitude and more earnest desire for 
the building up of the tabernacle of the Lord wherever it 
has fallen down — when they become more earnest and im- 
portunate in their prayers to God on this subject — then we 
may encourage ourselves, as we appeal to the Most H'glu 
in the words of one of his former servants, «■• thou shaft 
arise and have mercy upon Zion, for the time to favour 
her, yea, the set time, is come. And why ? thy servants 
think upon her stones, and ii pitieth them to sie her v. 
the dusty 

Among other causes which contributed to the breaking up 
of the Episcopal church, in the village of which we just 
spoke, was the newness of the place. Many revolutions 
were constantly occurring, so that in the course of a few 
years there was an almost entire change in the population. 
At length the missionary, who planted and watched ovet 
this church, was removed by death. He had, for a long 



142 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Mr. Heyden. The request. 



period, remained to min.ster to this little flock at a great 
personal sacrifice. There was no man, like-minded, thai 
offered himself as his successor ; and, amid the constant 
fluctuations of the population gathered on this spot, it was 
not wonderful, that, in a short time, the congregation be- 
came broken up and dispersed. 

At the close of the service, an intelligent looking man 
came up to me, and, announcing his name as Mr. Heyden, 
kindly invited me tt spend the night with him. I soon 
learnt that he was a farmer, residing in that neighbourhood; 
and it required no skill to discover that he was a man pos- 
sessing naturally a strong and vigorous mind, which had 
been considerably improved by reading and reflection. Mr. 
Heyden had been reared in the bosom of the Episcopal 
church, and accustomed to its liturgy. On the present oc- 
casion he had experienced a peculiar pleasure in being per- 
mitted again to join in those pure and elevated strains of 
devoti n. 

We had now just reached his house, and he was express- 
ing the high satisfaction he had enjoyed, when a message 
arrived from one of his neighbours, requesting an immediate 

visit from the Rev. Mr. . The reason assigned for 

requesting the visit that night was, that it was feared that 
Mr. Northend, the sick and dying man to whom the visit 
was to be paid, would not be alive on the morrow. The 
request was, of course, immediately complied with. After 
having taken some slight refreshment, Mr. H and my- 
self were soon on our way towards the residence of Mr 
Northend. The incidents that occurred at his house wil 
be relate in the next chapter. 



THE BAPTISM. .*d 



Kindred sympathies. 



CHAPTER IT 

THE DYING PARENT. 

"How our hearts burnt within us at the scene ! 
Whence this brave bound o'er limits fix'd to maa * 
His God sustains him in his final hour ! 
His final hour brings glory to his God !" — Young. 

The distance we had to walk was less than a quarter of 
a mile. The conversation on the way was of a desultory 
nature, and related chiefly to the character of the individual 
we were going to visit. 

" Mr. Northend's death," said Mr. H , " will be to 

me a sore calamity. We have lived here, side by side, 
with our farms adjoining, for more than twenty years. As 
neighbours, we have never had any difficulty ; a perfectly 
good understanding Las .hvays subsisted between us. Be- 
sides the feelings which bind old settlers together, there is 
another tie, which has ever linked us in the closest union— 
we think just alike on religious subjects. Often have y\e 
taken sweet counsel together, and talked of Christ and his 
salvation till our hearts burned within us. We live in a 
community who have little or no sympathy with us. 
There is but little spiritual religion around us ; and we have 
found few whose views, in relation to doctrine and wor- 
ship, harmonize with ours. These circumstances have 
created a kindred feeling, and cemented more closely the 
bonds of friendship between us. 

" There is still another reason why I am attached to thia 
man, and it would have attached me to him, had none of 
tne circumstances, to which I have alluded, existed. He 
is truly a most sincere and devoted Christian. He is onf 



'♦4 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Mr, Northend's character. The sick room. 

of the excellent of the earth. I have often thought that if 
ever there was a perfect exemplification of the precepts of 
the gospel, in the life and conversation of any individual, 
it was in this man. Once it was far otherwise. An ordi- 
nance of the gospel was blessed to him in a wonderful 
manner ; and I dare predict, that the great anxiety which 
he feels to see you this evening, is, to witness the initiation 
of his grandchildren into the fold of Christ, by baptism, be- 
fore he dies. There is in his mind, connected with this 
holy rite, the remembrance of events which constituted a 
new era in his life." 

I was both delighted and surprised with the intelligent 

and feeling manner in which Mr. H conversed upon 

religious subjects. As he finished the last remark, we had 
reached the dwelling of Mr. Northend. It was a neat and 
substantial farm house ; every thing about it wore the as- 
pect of comfort. 

Mr. Heyden took me immediately to the sick room. 
The group assembled there was of a truly interesting cha- 
racter. They consisted of the children and grandchildren 
of the sick man, together with a few neighbours, who had 
called to tender their services to t K e family. 

The grave and solemn aspect that sat upon each counte- 
nance would have told the most superficial observer, at the 
first glance, that, in the apprehension of that company, the 
angel of death had spread his awful wings over the dwell- 
ing in which they were assembled. 

As we entered the room all were seated except a female, 
the only surviving daughter of Mr. Northend, who stood, 
with tearful and anxious eye, bending over the couch of 
her father. 

The venerable old man lay stretched upon the bed, with 
locks as white as the snow-white pillow upon which his 
head rested. A holy calm was spread over his counte- 
nance. It was plainly evident, however, that he was suf- 
fering much bodily pain. His respiration was short, and 
difficult — his pulse feeble and irregular — and his already 



THE BAPTISM. 145 



The administration of the holy supper. 



sunken eye and ghastly visage indicated that the days of 
Henry Northend were numbered, and the sands of life 
almost run out. 

As soon as my name was announced, I immediately 
approached the bed, and took his bony hand, which wa§ 
already moist with the clammy sweat of death. 

" My desire," he at length said, with some difficulty, 
" my desire is, to receive once more before I die, if it be 
the Lord's will, * the sacrament of the body and blood of 
Christ: " 

The elements having been already prepared, I immedi- 
ately commenced the communion service ; a service at any 
time, and under any circumstances, solemn and impressive ; 
but doubly so in the chamber of the dying, and under cir- 
cumstances like the present. 

There were several, besides the sick man, who partook 
of the holy supper, and among the number his three child- 
ren, a daughter and two sons. The view of his children 
stretching out their hands to receive the memorials of a 
Saviour's dying love, seemed to revive the strength, and 
spread new animation over the death-stricken features of 
Mr. Northend. At the conclusion of the service he ap- 
peared totally changed. Those symptoms of speedy dis- 
solution, with which he was oppressed when I first entered 
the room, had entirely disappeared. His voice was now 
strong, and its tones clear and distinct. 

The short silence that succeeded the administration of 
the Lord's supper was first interrupted by Mr. Northend 
addressing himself to me, in the following manner : — 

" If you will now administer the sacrament of baptism 
to my grandchildren, I will withdraw my thoughts from 
eirth, and rest them in the bosom of my God." 

The baptismal service of the church has ever appeared 
deeply affecting, and truly solemn, to me. But the other 
sacrament which had just preceded it, and the situation of 
Mr. Northend, now placed, as it were, on that invisible 
line which separates time from eternity, imparted to the 
13 



146 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



A father's blessing. 



service, on this occasion, a peculiar pathos, and an almos 
divine power. 

When the administration of t.<? holy rite of baptism was 
concluded, the old man, raising himself up in the bed, re- 
quested that the youngest child, bearing his own name 
Henry Northend, should be placed upon his lap. When 
this was done, laying his hands upon the smiling infant, he 
said aloud, — 

" The God of my fathers, the great and merciful God 
bless you, my child, and all of you, my children. With 
great desire have I desired to see this hour ; it has often 
been the subject of my prayer since lying upon this bed 
of sickness, that one might be sent of the Lord to adminis- 
ter these holy ordinances before I closed my eyes in death, 
and my prayer has been answered." 

" Surely," continued he, addressing himself to me, 
" God has sent you here to baptize these little ones, and 
to administer to my children the pledges of a Saviour's 
dying love. Yea, and furthermore, to bury me. My two 
sons, « who have now duly received the spiritual food of 
the most precious body and blood of our Saviour Jesus 
Christ,' have been long desirous, and, I trust, in a state of 
preparation, to be partakers of those ' holy mysteries. 1 
And, eternal God ! thou art witness, how long and anxious- 
ly I have desired to see these little ones washed in ' the 
laver of regeneration.' Do not imagine," continued he, 
" that I attach any undue importance to the sacrament of 
baptism. I would give it in my esteem no higher import- 
ance than Christ has given it. I know very well, from 
what I have observed in others and seen in myself, that 
baptized persons may be as truly alienated in heart from 
God, and exposed to his wrath, as those who are in an un- 
covenanted state. I was baptized in infancy, but I spent 
one half of my life ' without hope and without God in the 
world.* Though God was exceedingly merciful to me, 
and gave me health and domestic happiness, and the means 
of comfortable subsistence ; and though I lived here 01* 



THE BAPTISM. 14? 



Views of baptism. The hope of glory. 

the banks of this lake, daily witnessing the displays of 
almighty power, and walked amid this scene of beauty and 
grandeur, spread around us, from which there now seems 
to ascend, continually, as from one broad altar, the incense 
of adoration and the song of praise, I lived and walked 
here « the enemy of God. 1 Baptism does not necessarily 
make us holy. It is an outward act — * a sign of regenera 
tion, or new birth, whereby, as by an instrument, they that 
receive baptism rightly are grafted into the church.'* There 
must be a renewed state of the affections, and an operation 
of the Holy Spirit upon the heart, before we can become 
truly ' members of Christ, children of God, and heirs of 
the kingdom of heaven.' If, on our part, agreeably to 
4 the solemn voiv, promise, and profession made at our bap- 
tism, we do actually renounce the devil and all his works, 
and constantly believe God's holy word and obediently 
keep his commandments,' I believe that Christ, for his 
part, will most surely keep and perform the promise made 
in his gospel, ' to release us from sin, to sanctify us with 
the Holy Ghost, and to give us the kingdom of heav*"- 
and everlasting life.' 

" I do love to think and to dwell upon this subject. Tiie 
baptism of my children was the commencement of a new 
era in my history. 

" O the baptism ! How many thoughts rush back to that 
hour ! O my God, hadst thou not blest that ordinance to 
my soul — hadst thou not, through it, awakened me to a 
knowledge of my character as a sinner, and led me by the 
guiding of thy Spirit to flee unto Christ for refuge — where 
had been my hopes in this hour ? I plainly perceive that 
the world and all its possessions are receding from my 
view, and that eternity is very near me. Transcendently 
glorious and exalted does my Saviour appear at this mo- 
ment ; but when I turn my eye to that dark period of my 
life, in which I was the servant of sin, and was living with 






* The 27th Article of the Episcopal Church. 



148 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Mr. Northend's peaceful death. 

out any experimental knowledge of Christ, or him crucified 
I shudder at the thought. O the baptism, the baptism, i 
saved my soul!" 

These last words were uttered in a tone, and with an 
energy, that seemed almost superhuman. The strength by 
which he had been enabled to speak so long was the result 
of excitement. Exhausted by the effort he had made, he 
sunk back upon his pillow, and died as quietly as the infant 
child drops to sleep. A slight quivering ran over his fea- 
tures, and shook his frame. Restoratives were instantly 
used, but to no purpose. He had for ever ceased to breathe. 



'i 



THE BAPTISM. 14$ 



The house of clay deserted by the immortal spirit 



CHAPTER III. 

THE MISSIONARY. 

**.... In his duty prompt at every call, 
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for alL 
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries 
To tempt its new fledged offspring to the skies ; 
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way." 

Goldsmith. 

When it was perceived that the immortal spirit had indeed 
left its clay tenement, all efforts to recall life were suspend- 
ed ; and we stood a while, and gazed in the deep silence of 
intense feeling upon the venerable and unbreathing form of 
this departed Christian. There was, even in death, a calm- 
ness and serenity that rested upon the fixed and motionless 
features of Mr. Northend, which spoke of the exalted and 
everlasting peace he had gone to enjoy. Tears were silently 
stealing down many a cheek in the solemn group that stood 
around the bed. But as if there had just been enforced by 
a voice from Heaven, the injunction, "Be still, and know 
that I am God" the stillness of deep and undisturbed 
solitude reigned through the whole house. After some 
little interval, prayer was proposed, in which all joined 
with great devotion. 

As Mr. Heyden and myself left this dwelling of sorrow, 
the truth of the sentiment most forcibly occurred to me, 
that " it is better to go to the house of mourning than to 
the house of feasting." 

I was so absorbed in the scene that I had witnessed, 
that I was scarcely conscious where I was, until I found 
myself in the open a} y and beneath one of the most bril- 

13* 



150 GATHERED TRAGMENTS. 



A night scene. The burial ground. 



liantly illuminated heavens that I had ever witnessed. It 
was nearly midnight. The sky was cloudless. The moon 
moved on through the resplendent vault of heaven most 
gloriously ! Around it twinkled ten thousand bright stars. 
The waters of the Ontario stretched before us like a sea of 
glory, beautifully irradiated beneath the soft and mellow 
rays of the orb of night. Not a sound was heard save the 
gentle ripple that played over the surface of the lake. We 
had left the house of death. The scene around us wa3 
calculated to perpetuate the deep and solemn feeling that 
had been already excited. 

At length, as we passed on, Mr. Heyden, pointing to the 
heavens, said, 

" Henry Northend has gone to yonder bright world, and 
will shine like one of those stars in the kingdom of his 
Master for ever and ever." 

I felt too deeply to make any reply ; and so we passed 
on several yards in silence. As we ascended a small rise 

of ground, Mr. H slackened his pace, and turned a 

little out of the path. I followed him, and soon saw before 
us, at a short distance, a plain white marble stone, which 
seemed to mark the spot where the ashes of some departed 
fellow mortal rested. As we drew near, I perceived that 
we were in the neighbourhood of a small burying ground, 
which I afterwards learnt belonged exclusively to the two 

families of Northend and Heyden. Mr. H went up 

to the stone just alluded to, and for a moment fixed his 
eyes upon the spot in deep silence. I read with some sur- 
prise on this stone, for it was almost as light as day, " Sa- 
cred to the memory of the Rev. D. P , who departed 

this life, &c. * He being dead, yet speaketh.' " 

" Do you know any thing," said I to Mr. H , " of 

the history of this clergyman ?" 

" Yes," replied he, " I knew him well, and have great 
reason to remember him. 

" You know," continued Mr. Heyden, "that just as we 
arrived at Mr. Northend's, I was remarking, that recollec- 



THE BAPTISM. 151 



The rural seat. The narration. 



dons of a peculiar character were connected in his mind 
with the baptism of his children, and you yourself must 
have observed with what deep feeling and peculiar empha- 
sis he spoke of ' the baptism 1 just before he expired. If 
the hour was not so far advanced, I think you would be 
interested in the narrative of the baptism and incidents he 
alluded to ; and that narrative would tend to illustrate the 
history and character of him whose ashes rest beneath this 
sod." 

I assured Mr. Heyden that nothing could give me so 
much pleasure as the narration of which he spoke ; and that 
with my present feelings it would be impossible for me 
to sleep. I, therefore, proposed that we should linger 
around this spot, while he narrated the incidents jus 
alluded to. 

A short distance from where we stood, there had shot 
up, within ten feet of each other, two elm trees, which had 
attained about half their growth. Between these trees 
there had been fixed a rude seat, from which, in the heat 
of the day, there might be viewed, in shaded retirement, the 
hallowed resting-place of the dead, and the wide-spreading 
waters of Ontario. Here we sat down ; and Mr. Heyden 
proceeded with his narration, as follows : — 

" It is full twenty years since the Rev. Mr. P first 

visited these parts. The country was then new, and we 
were entirely destitute of religious privileges. The want 
of religious privileges was attended with great and almost 
universal looseness of morals. Little respect was paid to 
the Lord's day ; when it was not spent in work, it was 
usually devoted to amusement. Profane SAvearing was 
almost universal, and many were addicted to gambling, and 
deep and dangerous drinking. 

" It was owing entirely to the restraining grace of God 
that I did not go all these lengths ; for at that time, I was 
far from being under the influence of a practical and heart- 
felt religion, the only security for sound morality. The 
news of the Rev. Mr. P 's arrival among us was soon 



152 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The missionary. 

spread abroad, and made the subject of much conversation 
through the whole settlement. At this time it might have 
been truly said, * We have heard a rumour from the Lord, 
and an ambassador is sent among the heathen. 1 All that 
could went to hear the missionary preach ; and some car- 
ried their children, that they might receive baptism. It 

was intimated to Mr. P , the first time he preached 

among us, that there were several families in various parts 
of the settlement, that were desirous to have their children 
baptized, and among others, Mr. Northend's name was 
mentioned. Following this suggestion, he visited those 
families whose names had been mentioned to him, and 
where it was desired, administered baptism to their child- 
ren, and exhorted the parents * to cleave unto the Lord. 1 

" As I had had a previous introduction to Mr. P , he 

called upon me, and requested me to accompany him on 
this same errand to Mr. Northend's. 

" Mr. N was at this time among the most careless 

in the neighbourhood, in relation to spiritual things ; but 
being an Englishman by birth, and very much attached to 
the customs of his fathers, he was desirous of improving 
the present opportunity of having his children baptized. 

" I conducted the missionary to his house, which was 
then a small log dwelling, standing at one side of a clearing 
of about ten acres. This was, at that time, all the land he 

cultivated. Mr. P soon apprized Mr. Northend of the 

errand on which he had come. Mrs. Northend remarked : 

" ' I am very sorry that we had not had some previous no- 
tice of this, for then we would have prepared better clothes 
for the children, and had them in some little order.' 

" ' Let not this,' replied Mr. P- , 'deter you from doing 

your duty in giving up your children to the Lord, or prevent 
you from embracing the present opportunity of having your 
offspring grafted into the body of Christ's church. May 
it ever, hereafter, be your constant aim and unceasing effort, 
to see that your children are adorned with piety, and 
clothed in the garments of the Redeemer's righteousness.' 



THE BAPTISM. 153 

Infant Baptism. 



" * Go,' said her husband, ' and get the children together 
we must not miss this opportunity of having them chrisfc 
ened.' 

" Mrs. N retired to collect the group 

" Mr. P asked Mr. Northend if he had a Prayci 

Book. 

" His reply was, ' I believe that we have an old one 
that belonged to my father.' 

" After much search, an old English Prayer Book was 
at length found under a collection of dingy looking papers 
and pamphlets that were lodged upon a shelf or board, 
nailed to the logs that ran transversely across the house, 
and supported the chamber floor. 

" The children were now present, except the two oldest 
boys. They, having heard what was intended, had hid 
themselves in the corn-field. While a search was going 
on for them, the missionary took occasion to speak upon the 
importance and exalted privilege of Christian baptism. 

" ' Yes/ said Mr. Northend, not understanding the spi- 
ritual sense in which Mr. P spoke, any more than the 

woman of Samaria understood the meaning of the Saviour 
when he discoursed about the * living water'' at Jacob's 
well — * yes, I have always thought I would have my 
children christened. I have known persons to lose a for- 
tune on account of their not having been christened, or 
their not having had their names properly registered at the 
time.' 

" While Mr. N was making this remark, the mother 

returned with one of the absentees, reporting that the other, 
the oldest son, a boy about twelve, was nowhere to be found. 
After some consultation, it was determined, that those that 
were present should be baptized, at all events. 

" Perhaps they who object to infant baptism, or to the 
baptism of children whose parents are not pious, would 
think that all the circumstances I have related go to show, 
most conclusively, the validity of their objections. And 
perhaps you may think, for I did, that it would have bee» 



154 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Baptismal service. 

well for Mr. P , before proceeding to the baptismal 

service, to have explained the nature and spiritual intent 
of the holy rite he was about to administer. And, in most 
instances, this would, undoubtedly, have been the true 
course. But, in this instance, he thought another course 
preferable, and the result showed that he judged correctly. 
It was his opinion that no explanations could so luminously 
or impressive 1 )- set forth the nature and design of this sacra- 
ment as the oaptismal service.'''' 

While Mr. Heyden was relating this, I was indeed most 
forcibly struck with the apparent injudiciousness of the 
course pursued, in this instance, by the missionary. And, 
although the results were favourable in that case, I did not 
think it a safe precedent to follow. I was too much ab- 
sorbed in the narrative, however, to interrupt Mr. Heyden, 
to communicate to him my dissent from his conclusion, and 
so he went on. 

" Without adding one word, therefore, in reply to Mr. 
Northend's singular remark, he began the service. This 
service I have always admired, and, in point of sublimity 
and feeling, it is certainly equal to any human compo- 
sition. I have heard it pronounced, with great solemnity, 
on numerous occasions ; but never did 1 hear that sublime 
service uttered in tones so solemn and deeply impres- 
sive as that time. We all felt its meaning. The mis- 
sionary had not proceeded three sentences, before the 
utmost gravity and seriousness were visible upon every 
countenance. It seemed as though the words he uttered 
exerted, at the time, an instantaneous and almost irre- 
sistible influence upon our minds. After the questions 
had been proposed, just as the minister lifted up his 
eye to heaven, uttering these words, Grant that the old 
Jldam in these children may be so buried, that the new 
man may be raised up in them, I looked at Henry North- 
end. The big tear stood on his cheek ; and his wife had 
covered her face, agitated by deep emotion, with her hands. 
Each part of the service seemed very affecting, and thai 



THE BAPTISM. 155 



Parental c cligation. Family prayer. 



peculiarly so, wher. the minister, holding the little one in 
tiis arms, after having poured the water upon him 'in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost,' repeated these words, — We receive this child into 
the congregation of Christ's flock, and do sign him with 
the sign of the cross, in token that hereafter he shall not 
be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and 
manfully to fight wider his banner, against sin, the 
world, and the devil; and to continue Christ's faithful 
soldier and servant unto his life's end. And there also 
seemed much meaning and force in the concluding exhor- 
tation, and I saw it went home to their hearts ; ye must 
remember, it is your parts and duties to see that these 
infants be taught, so soon as they shall be able to learn, 
what a solemn vow, promise, and profession they have 
here made by you. 

" At the close of the service, Mr. P , kneeling down, 

offered up a devout and fervent prayer for this family. 
Then, with much kindness, but yet with great plainness, 
he thus addressed the parents :— 

" « You have been making very solemn promises for 
your children. Let me tell you, that you cannot keep 
those promises, unless you have an altar to the Lord in 
your dwelling ; unless you gather these children together, 
morning and night, and pray with them. For them you 
have promised to renounce the devil, to exercise Christian 
faith, and to lead a godly life. You cannot do this for 
them unless you are in earnest to do it for yourselves. 
You can never do this, either for them or yourselves, i i- 
less you look up continually to God in prayer. See whai 
a group of young immortals are committed to your trust ! 
These children, in all probability, will be happy or misera- 
ble in eternity, according to the course you pursue with 
them. They have this day been admitted into the congre- 
gation of Christ's flock ; they have been invested with 
great and glorious privileges ; but whether those privileges 
will ever be of any service to them, depends, in a very 



156 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Happy effect of the use of the baptismal service. 



considerable degree, upon you. I do entreat you, there- 
fore, for your children's sake, and for your own sakes. 
seek, with all diligence and earnestness, " the kingdom of 
God and his righteousness." ' 

" These words, in connexion with the effect already pro- 
duced by the baptismal service, went home to the bosom 
of those parents like barbed arrows. From that daj 
Henry Northend began to read his Bible, and think deeply 
about the salvation of his soul. He left off profane swear- 
ing. He never again yoked up his cattle, or went a fishing 
on the lake, on Sunday. Whenever there was preaching 
in the settlement, whoever else was absent, Henry North- 
end was there. He has frequently told me, that for weeks, 
1 the remembrance of his manifold sins and wickedness was 
such an intolerable burden to him, that he often thought 
he must sink, beneath their pressure, into the abyss of un- 
ending ruin.' " 

Here Mr. Heyden paused, and turning his eye to the 
grave, which we noticed in the early part of this chapter, 
for a moment seemed lost in thought. The continuation 
of his narrative will be found in the next chapter. 



THE BAPTISM. 157 



Affecting reminiscences. 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE CHANGE. 



The promise is unto you and to your children, and to all that are 
•far off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call. 

Acts of the Apostles. 

" Three months after the occurrences just related," a 
length said Mr. Heyden, keeping his eye still fixed upon 
the consecrated spot of earth to which it had been turned, 
" three months after the occurrences just related, there 
might have been seen, in a log school-house, that then 
stood on the very spot where yonder church is now built, 
fifteen persons kneeling to receive the hallowed symbols 
of the body and blood of Christ. Mr. Northend, his wife, 
and myself were among the number. O, I shall never for- 
get that man, whose ashes slumber beneath yonder hillock 
of earth. He was the successful messenger of God to my 
soul and to the souls of many others in the settlement. 
Many, through his preaching, were brought to a knowledge 
of themselves as sinners, and led to seek mercy at the foot 
of the cross. When I die, I desire to be buried by his 
side that, in the morning of the resurrection, my body may 
go up in company with his to meet, in the air, that Jesus 
whom he taught me to love. 

"Yes, through the labours of the Rev. Mr. P , much 

good was done. The morals of the whole settlement were 
greatly improved ; an Episcopal church was organized 
and, for a while, every thing promised well. 

" With Mr. Northend and his family, literally ola 
thing* had passed away, and all things had become new 
14 



168 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Change of heart conducive to intellectual improvement. 

Through the enlightening Spirit of God, he had been en- 
abled to cast at the foot of the cross that burden which at 
first pressed him down, and to find ' peace and joy in be- 
lieving' on the Lord Jesus Christ. I never knew a charac- 
ter so perfectly changed as was his. His temporal affairs 
were conducted upon a new and improved plan. Previous 
to this, he had allowed things to run at loose ends. He 
was considerably in debt, and made but slow progress in 
clearing up his land ; but a new impulse seemed now to 
have been imparted to his character. That natural indo- 
lence which formerly hung about him was shook off. He 
became, from principle, uniformly industrious and attentive 
to business ; and the greatly improved condition of his tem- 
poral affairs was a striking commentary upon that divine 
declaration, ' that godliness is profitable unto all things, 
having promise of the life that now is, and of that which 
is to come.' 

" After this change in his religious character, his intel- 
lectual faculties seemed altogether of a new order. Ener- 
gies of mind that had always lain dormant seemed now 
roused and called into active exercise. In a few years it 
was universally conceded, that no man in the settlement 
thought more deeply, or reasoned more correctly, than 
Henry Northend. His manners, also, seemed to acquire a 
suavity and refinement which they did not before possess. 
These, singular as they may appear, I can assure you are 
facts." 

Unwilling as I am to interrupt the progress of this nar- 
rative, I cannot withhold the remark, that I have often wit- 
nessed a change exactly coincident with that here stated. 

Persons reputed to be below mediocrity in point of intel- 
lect, and distinguished for every species of habitual inci- 
vility and discourteousness, have, when brought under the 
influence of religion, developed new faculties of mind, and 
acquired a character for great amiability of manners. This 
can be accounted for, without supposing the intervention 
of any miraculous power 



THE BAPTISM. 159 



The study of the Bible tends to give expansion to the intellect. 






It has been said, " that he who has read and fully under- 
stands one well- written book is a learned man." If there 
be any truth in this remark, it must apply with great force 
to the reading of the word of God. This book contains 
the elements of all learning and knowledge. It is impos- 
sible for the human mind to dwell upon its truths, and to 
examine its pages with that intensity of feeling and earn- 
estness to discover its hidden treasures which characterize 
the returning sinner's perusals of the word of God — it is 
impossible for the human mind to meditate often upon the 
truths of revelation, and to reflect much upon the " deep 
things of God," without acquiring, and in time evincing, 
new and more vigorous powers of thought. The mind, 
being disciplined by religious meditation, becomes better 
fitted for thinking accurately upon all subjects ; for habits 
of deep thinking upon any one particular subject are likely 
to induce the same habits in reference to all other subjects. 
The astonishing effect which the reading of the Scriptures 
and pious meditation are capable of producing upon an un- 
lettered and uncultivated mind is strikingly displayed in the 
letters of the Dairyman's Daughter, addressed to the author 
of that excellent tract. And when the true spirit of Chris- 
tianity is imbibed, and that " charity which suffereth long 
and is kind, which doth not behave itself unseemly, seek- 
eth not her own, and is not easily provoked," becomes the 
animating and controlling principle of our actions, it cannot 
fail to produce a corresponding gentleness of manners. But 
I have already kept the reader too long from the narrative. 

"In all things," continued Mr. Heyden, " Mr. Northend 
acted agreeably to his Christian profession. No man ever 
brought the influence of religion to bear more universally 
upon all, even the minutest actions of his life. In the 
management of his children he now evinced great judgment, 
and showed how deeply he felt the awful responsibility 
that rested upon him in relation to this matter. He seemed 
to consider himself sacredly pledged and solemnly bound, 
agreeably to the exhortation in the baptismal service, ■ t« 



160 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Religious instruction joined with prayer. 

see that his children were taught, so soon as they were 
able to learn, what a solemn vow, promise, and profession 
they had made at their baptism, by him/ 

" It was a uniform custom with him, from which he 
never departed, to devote two or three hours every Lord's 
day to the instruction of his children in religious things. 
They were not only taught to recite from memory the cate- 
chism, but were taught to understand it. The nature of 
baptism was often explained to them — the privileges of a 
covenanted state — the advantages of being united to Christ, 
their spiritual head — the fearful condition of those who by 
wicked works deny that Jesus to whom they had been 
brought, and by whom they had been blessed, in infancy ; 
these were subjects often discoursed upon at great length. 

"Mr. Northend endeavoured not only to instruct, but to 
interest his children in these things. He read the Scrip- 
tures with them, and selected those parts which were cal- 
culated to fix their attention, and make a lasting impression 
upon their mind. Those scripture narratives that are 
peculiarly tender and touching, and which are related with 
a simplicity suited to the capacity of childhood ; those ex- 
amples of devotedness to God, where true piety appears 
most lovely and interesting, — were not only read, but made 
the subjects of conversation between this father and hir 
children. In these efforts to rear up these young and ten 
der plants for immortal glory, he did not forget that it b 
God alone that can give the increase. He often prayed 
with and for his children. 

" The effect of this religious training was truly happ^ 
and salutary in reference to most of his offspring ; but the 
unfortunate boy whom we mentioned as having concealed 
himself in the corn-field, to avoid receiving baptism, wa* 
extremely obstinate and wayward. While his little brothers 
and sisters were listening in delighted admiration to the 
religious instruction of their father, he always seemed rest- 
less and uneasy, glad when the exercise was closed, anft 
ever anxious to escape it. This aversion to religion showed 



THE BAPTISM. 161 



James Northend. 



itself at a very early period. So opposed was he to the 
receiving of baptism, that he declared it should never be 
done but by force. His father did not think fit to use co- 
ercive means, as he was now upwards of twelve years old. 
So James Northend was never baptized. And I have 
sometimes thought that the sad and painful end to which 
he finally came was the testimony of God, designed tc 
warn those who despise the ordinances of the Most High. 
AH the other children of Mr. Northend became pious at an 
early age." 



!«• 



1G2 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Trials in the path of every true Christian. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE UNBAPTIZED SON. 

If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons : Ua 
what son is he whom the father chasteneth not 1 

From the Epistle to the Hebrews 

The Christian's path is not irradiated with continua* 
sunshine. There are seasons when he finds himself 
wrapped in deep and awful darkness. God sees fit, at 
times, to " set him in dark places ; to hedge him about 
so that he cannot get out, and to remove his soul far off 
from ■peace." Unforeseen and unavoidable calamity may 
overtake him. His prospects may be suddenly blasted 
His friends, his children, those who are endeared to him 
by all the tender ties of consanguinity and love, may be 
torn from his bosom and lodged in the grave. 

But in the midst of his severest trials the Christian bar 
the consoling assurance, that i^cse afflictions are not to bt 
viewed as judgments sent in frowning wrath, but as tokens 
of love and paternal regard. " For whom the Lord loveth 
he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom hereceiveth." 
AH who belong to the household and family of God must 
expect, sooner or later, these evidences of divine adoption. 
Afflictive visitations seem necessary to prove us. If we 
pass through the fiery trial with undiminished confidence 
in God. our faith, by this very process, will have become 
more invigorated, and our submission to the divine wih 
more perfect. Our characters will thus have become more 
exalted, and purified from the dross of sin, and we our- 
selves rendered more " meet to be partakers of the inherit 
ance of the saints in light." 



THE BAPTISM 163 



Bereavement. The love of childten. 



These remarks have been suggested by the continuation 
of the foregoing narrative, which here follows, as related 
by Mr. Heyden. 

" My friend was now called to tread a rough and thorny 
path. As I observed to you, he had taken great pains tc 
imbue the young and tender minds of his children wkh 
sentiments of piety and love to God. In the course of a 
few years he was called to part with three of those children. 
O, sir, if you have never had, and loved, and buried child- 
ren, you can hardly conceive the nature of this affliction." 

Here Mr. Heyden cast his eye towards the burying 
ground, and for a moment ?remed lost in silent contempla- 
tion. The tear that fell upon his manly cheek, and the 
tones in which he spoke, told me that he had children 
resting there. After drawing the back of his hand across 
his face, Mr. Heyden thus proceeded : — 

" There are a thousand ways in which these little ones 
entwine themselves around our hearts. To see them so 
helpless and dependent upon u* looking to us so implor- 
ingly in the moment of peril, and running to us for protec- 
tion ; appearing so happy, and joyous, and light-hearted in 
our presence — to witness in them, day after day, the unfold- 
ing of some new capacity, or the performance of some 
new action ; to watch each new development of thought 
and of moral feeling ; to follow them step by step till rea- 
son begins to ripen and mature ; and to receive from them, 
at each step, expressions of filial love in all the feelings 
and simplicity of their young, warm, and guileless hearts. 
O, these things fasten ten thousand cords around a father's 
heart ! And if that father has endeavoured to lead his 
children in the way of life ; if he has gathered them around 
him, and told them the story of the Saviour's death and 
sufferings ; and as he spoke of the love and the kindness of 
the Son of God, if he has observed the tears that glistened 
in their young eyes ; and if he has conducted them on in 
the way of religious instruction until the divine life began 
to spring up in their souls, he has found his heart bound tc 



164 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Christian resignation. The cloud that crossed the moon's disk. 

them by new ties. To lose such a child — to see him on 
the bed of death looking so imploringly to us, and when 
pointed to that blessed Jesus, who, while here on earth, 
welcomed little children to his arms — to see. him endea- 
vouring, with his trembling lips and dying breath, to utter 
the name of that Jesus, — O, this is indeed trying to the 
r eelings of a father. 

" In less than one year Mr. Northend saw three of his 
children thus called into eternity. But the resignation 
with which he bore it, and the meek submission with 
which he bowed to the will of God, seemed to throw a new 
lustre over his character." 

Here Mr. Heyden paused, and looked upwards for a 
moment, and then said, — 

"Have you not observed, since we have been sitting 
here, that a few light clouds have gathered in the heavens ; 
and do you not see, that one of a dark appearance hast just 
passed over the moon. This, connected with our conver- 
sation, reminds me of a poetic effusion that I met with 
many years ago : — 

■ Methinks if you would know 
How visitations of calamity 
Affect the pious soul, it is shown you there — 
Look yonder at that cloud which, through the sky 
Sailing along, doth cross in her career 
The rolling moon. I watch'd her as it came, 
And deem'd the deep opaque would blot her beam ; 
But melting like a wreath of snow, 
It hangs in folds of wary silence round, 
And clothes the orb with richer beauties than her own ; 
Then passing, leaves her in her light serene.' " 

I looked towards the moon, and was struck with the 
inimitable beauty and force of the illustration ; but deter- 
mined not to interrupt Mr. Heyden, to express my admira- 
tion ; he therefore thus proceeded : — 

" This was only the commencement of my friend's 
afflictions. James Northend, as I have already remarked, 
when qu'4e young, evinced strong symptoms of a wayward 



THE BAPTISM. 165 



Early tendencies of James Northend. 



and perverse heart. As he grew up, his natural propensi 
ties became more manifest, and excited in the bosom of his 
friends alarming apprehensions that his course would be 
marked with fearful depravity. He had already become 
extremely dissipated, fond of low company, and averse tc 
labour. 

" This was, indeed, a sore trial to Mr. Northend. James 
was his first begotten. If he had a favourite, if there was 
one of his children that shared more tenderly or more 
largely in his affections than another, it was James. No 
one can tell how many bitter tears he shed, how many fer- 
vent prayers he put up for him. But this child of his love, 
this idol of his heart, with a bosom steeled against all 
impressions from parental tenderness, kept on in his evil 
courses, waxing worse and worse. What rendered this 
affliction still more trying, Was, that Mr. Northend always 
attributed this perverseness in James, to his own early mis- 
management of him." 

Tmust be permitted to interrupt, for a moment, this nar- 
rative sketch, with which Mr. Heyden was favouring me. 
to offer the passing remark that there can be no doubt but 
that, in many instances, the neglect and unfaithfulness of 
parents are the cause of the everlasting rum of their child- 
ren. Were a mother to neglect her little infant for a few 
days, it would inevitably die. We know that the temporal 
destiny of children is every way very much in the hands 
of their parents. And all that the Scriptures say, in re- 
ference to the duty and results of the religious training of 
the young, leads us to conclude that parents have a moral 
power put into their hands, in reference to th c .ir offspring, 
which, if not exerted for good, will certainly involve them 
in the guilt of destroying the souls of their childien. 
" Were a proper line of conduct pursued, how few profli- 
gate children, and how few broken-hearted parents should 
we find. The neglect of early religious education, con- 
nected with a wholesome and affectionate restraint, is the 
ruin of millions. Many parents, to excuse their indolence 



166 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Parental unfaithfulness the cause of the ruin of children. 

and most criminal neglect, say, ' We cannot give out 
children grave.' What do they mean by this ? That God, 
not themselves, is the author of the irregularities and 
viciousness of their children. They may shudder at this 
imputation; but when they reflect that they have not given 
them right precepts — have not brought them under firm 
and affectionate restraint — have not showed them, by their 
own spirit, temper, and conduct, how they should be regu- 
lated in theirs — when either the worship of God has not 
been established in their houses, or they have permitted 
their children, on the most trifling pretences, to absent 
themselves from it — when all these things are considered, 
they will find that, speaking after the manner of men, it 
would have been a very extraordinary miracle, indeed, if 
the children had been found preferring a path in which 
they did not see their parents conscientiously tread. 

" Let those parents, who continue to excuse themselves 
by saying, We cannot give grace to our children' lay 
their hand on their conscience and say whether they ever 
knew an instance where God withheld his grace, while 
they were in humble subserviency to him, performing their 
duty? The real state of the case is — parents cannot do 
God's work ; and God will not do theirs. But if they use 
the means, and train up a child in the way he should go, 
God will never withhold his blessing."* 

How many there are that can bear testimony, that, under 
God, their first and permanent religious impressions were 
owing to the pious, affectionate care of their parents, and 
to that judicious and affectionate course of discipline under 
which they were reared. It is not parental fondness, nor 
parantal authority, taken separately, that usually issues 
in such happy results. 

"A father may be as fond of his offspring as Eli, and 
his children be the sons of Belial ; he may be as authorita- 
tive as the grand Turk, and his children despise, and plot 

* Introductory Remarks to a Memoir of Mrs. Mary Cooper. By 
Dr. Adam Clarke. 



THE BAPTISH. 167 



Parental authority, and fatherly affection. 



rebellion against him. But let parental authority be tem- 
pered with fatherly affection; and let the rein of discipline 
be steadily held by this powerful but affectionate hand ; and 
there shall the pleasure of God prosper ; there will he give 
his blessing, even life for evermore. Many interesting 
families have been spoiled, and many ruined, by the sepa* 
rate exercise of these two principles. Parental affection, 
when alone, infallibly degenerates into foolish fondness ; 
and parental authority frequently degenerates into brutal 
tyranny, when standing by itself. The first sort of parents 
will be loved, without being respected ; the second sort 
will be dreaded, without respect or esteem. In the first 
sase, obedience is not exacted, and is therefore felt to be 
unnecessary, as offences of great magnitude pass without 
punishment or reprehension ; in the second case, rigid 
exactness renders obedience almost impossible, and the 
smallest delinquency is often punished with extreme torture, 
which, hardening the mind, renders the duty a matter of 
perfect indifference." It is hoped that these remarks will 
not be thought irrelevant to the point which our narrative 
here brings distinctly to view — the ultimate ruin of child- 
ren, resulting from neglect and mismanagement on the 
part of parents. 

Mr. Heyden proceeded in the sketch that he was giving 
Df this family, and particularly of that unhappy son who 
evinced, even in childhood, so many strong symptoms of 
perversity and waywardness, as follows : — 

" As I just remarked, James Northend was extremely 
averse to labour ; but seemed very fond of being on the 
lake, and of associating with boatmen. He now took his 
own course, and determined to follow boating on the lake 
as a business. This brought him into habits of intimacy 
with the lowest and most depraved part of society. He 
was thus removed from the means of grace, and from the 
influence of religious people ; and his acquaintances, in 
general, now gave him up as a lost man. 

" It was a few years after James began to follow thfl 



168 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The dark night. The Christian lovely in death. Trust in Jesus. 



lake, that his mother was taken very ill, and, from the vio 
lence of her disease, her recovery was despaired of. She 
expressed great anxiety to see him before she died. Boats 
were leaving here almost every day, and the family took 
great pains to send tidings of this to James. 

" It was a very dark rainy night, when intelligence came 
to my house that Mrs. Northend would not probably sur- 
vive till morning. I immediately hastened there, and found 
but few individuals present except their own family. Mrs. 
Northend was evidently rapidly failing, but still able to 
converse. I do not know that I ever saw one appear more 
lovely in death, or able to look into the eternal world, on 
the brink of which she then lay, with more calmness or 
composure. 

" I remarked to her, that I hoped that she felt resigned 
to the will of God, and ready to obey his summons. 

" ' O yes,' she replied, ' God has been very merciful to 
me ; his Holy Spirit has brought most of my rebellious 
thoughts into submission to his will. And I can truly say 
that I find unspeakable peace and comfort in resigning 
myself and all my concerns into his hands. When I look 
back on my past life, and see how devious has been my 
path, and how deviating my steps, the creature of a thou- 
sand changed and changing purposes ; at one time firmly 
resolved to devote all my powers and faculties to the service 
of God, and perhaps before an hour had passed, all my 
good resolutions swept away, and myself brought into 
subjection to the law of sin, which is in my members — O, 
when I think of these things, I should sink into utter de- 
spair did I not remember that I was to be saved by free and 
unmerited grace. Yes, Jesus, 

" ' Thou must save, and thou alone ; 
In my hand no price I bring, 
Simply to thy cross I cling. 

" « O, how infinite is that love, how indescribable that 
goodness which lias promised to lift me from the depths 



THE BAPTISM. 169 



A mother's bitterness in death. The solemn interview. 



of sin, and exalt me to a seat at God's right hand. When 
I look forward to the things ivhich are not seen? the 
things which God hath prepared for them that love him, 
I long to depart and be with Christ. But then the thought 
of those I am leaving ; yes, there is one bitter, bitter 
thought — my James — my prodigal son — O, that I could 
see him, and leave him my dying entreaty to turn from the 
ways of death.' 

" The rain was pattering fast upon the roof, and the night 
exceedingly dark ; all within the house was quiet and com- 
posed. During these remarks of Mrs. Northend, James 
arrived, and had entered the room with a noiseless tread. 
The curtains that hung around her bed had prevented her 
noticing his presence. As she made these last remarks, 
he went forward just as he had left the boat, clad in his 
sailor dress, dripping with rain, and kneeled at her bedside ; 
with one hand he covered his own face, and with the other 
clasped the dying hand of his mother. 

" ' O my James, my James,' she exclaimed, 'I am going 
to die — and must we be parted for ever ? Have I borne and 
nursed you — have I carried you in my arms, and cherished 
you in my bosom so many days and nights, that you might 
become a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction. O ! my 
son, this is the last appeal that I shall ever make to yon. 
Do turn to God. If you have no pity on your own soul, 
do have pity upon the tears and agony of your dying 
mother. O my God, I ask for this child but one thing — 
the salvation of his soul.' 

" Never did I witness so truly an affecting scene as this. 
The mother soon died. The son, for a little while more 
steady, soon returned to his former courses. 

" Mr. Northend submitted to the loss of her who had been 
so long his companion and dearest earthly friend with great 
Christian resignation, looking forward with confident ex- 
pectation to their happy future meeting in the kingdom of 
glory. 

*' About this time a relative of his of whom he had little 
15 



170 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Fraudulent transaction. 

personal knowledge, came into the neighbourhood. He 
was a man of great plausibility, but at the bottom very 
corrupt and unprincipled. He had been engaged for many 
years in various speculations, and had considerable property 
in his hands. Very soon after his location in this place, 
he came to Mr. Northend, in great apparent distress and 
agitation of mind, and told him, that an unforeseen casualty 
had placed him in such circumstances that it became neces- 
sary for him to ask some one to lend him his name as an 
indorser to the amount of a few thousand dollars ; that not 
the slightest risk would be run in doing so, as he had abun- 
dant means to meet all his pecuniary responsibilities. Mr. 
Northend inconsiderately yielded to his request. This rela- 
tive had now attained his object. He had thrown the bur- 
den of several thousand dollars of debt upon the shoulders 
of another. He knew that Mr. Northend now stood be- 
tween him and the demands of the law, and he therefore 
never made a single effort to pay one of those debts. It 
was a cool deliberate calculation on his part to defraud Mr 

N of just that amount of money. Mr. Northend. 

when it was too late, discovered this fact, and then was 
made to understand very distinctly what the wise man 
meant when he said, « He that is surety for a stranger 
shall smart for it ; and he that hateth suretiship is sure.* 
Mr. Northend was obliged to pay the whole amount for 
which he had become responsible, and in doing so, his 
property was reduced to less than one half of what it was 
before. He did not, however, allow himself to be in the 
slightest degree ruffled or discomposed by this disastrous 
occurrence ; but used cheerfully to remark, when allusion 
was made to it, « Thank God, through his mercy I have an 
inheritance which the fraudulent cannot wrest from me 
God is taking care of that. It is incorruptible, undefiled, 
and fadeth not away? 

" Another and more severe trial was now at hand. 

" A few years had elapsed since the death of Mrs. North- 
end. James continued to follow the lake, and had becom* 



THE BAPTISM. 171 



The gale. The shipwreck. The awful catastrophe. 

the master, and, in part, the owner of a small schooner. 
The navigation of this lake is somewhat dangerous on ac- 
count of sudden squalls. On one occasion, about the time 
that the arrival of James Northend was expected, with his 
schooner, there blew up one of the severest gales i ever 
witnessed. In a short time there came news that a schooner 
was wrecked, and in a sinking condition, within sight of 
the shore. In a few minutes the shore was lined with 
spectators, and it was soon decided that it was James 
Northend's boat. A number of persons could be distinctly 
seen clinging to the yet floating wreck. The first thing 
that arrested my attention when I came to the shore was 
Mr. Northend, walking backward and forward in the deep- 
est agony. In his haste he had left his house without his 
hat, and his long white air was floating in the wind, which 
gave to him a wild and distracted appearance. An attempt 
had just been made to send out a small boat to the relief of 
the perishing crew ; but there was not a boat to be had that 
could have lived five minutes in that gale. 

" Mr. Northend was imploring them to make anothei 
effort. 

" ' O save my child,' he said, ' I will give all that! pos- 
sess if any one will make the effort.' 

"To have made the attempt would have been certain 
destruction. Of this Mr. Northend soon became sensible, 
and desisted from his importunity. The storm accelerated 
the approach of night, and in fifteen minutes after I reached 
the shore, darkness settled down upon the sinking wreck, 
and blotted it, together with its perishing crew, for ever from 
our sight. Mr. Northend still stood gazing in the direction 
of the wreck, trying to pierce with his dim eye through the 
darkness, to catch another glimpse of his profligate, but 
still beloved child. I went up to him, and taking him by 
the arm, begged him to return to his house, and remember 
where his trust should be placed. 

" ' O yes,' said he, turning away from the wild commo- 
tion of agitated waters that was roaring around us, ' O yes 



172 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Submission. Concluding reflection. 



my heart is indeed overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that 
is higher than I. Had James been penitent — could I have 
had any evidence that his peace was made with God ! The 
thought of his going to an endless perdition — how agoniz- 
ing ! O God, help me to bow in humble submission to this 
dispensation, and say, Thy will be done.' 

" As was to be expected, when the morning came, no 
part of the wreck was visible. 

" From this time Henry Northend became much abstract- 
ed from the world. 'His conversation was in heaven.' 
The subject of religion seemed the only one that could 
interest him. This interested him deeply and powerfully. 
However weary or worn out with fatigue, the mention of 
the blessed Saviour's name would at all times arouse him 
up to immediate warmth and animation. He has lived the 
life, and died the death of the righteous. Peace be to his 
memory." 

When this interesting narrative was finished, we went to 
Mr. Heyden's house. 

After I had retired to my bedroom, the following reflec- 
tion._arose in my mind : ' How wonderful are the ways of 
God ! How true it is that they who seek him shall find 
mercy, and they who refuse to obey him shall eat of the 
fruit of their own ways, and be filled with their own de- 
vices. Here is one instance in which God has blessed, in 
a signal and visible way, the sacrament of infant baptism 
to the salvation of souls, and to the magnifying of his own 
glory. How strongly should this urge all parents to the 
discharge of this most plainly inculcated duty.' 



LITTLE ANN. 



CHAPTER I. 

K <L R L Y RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

" Christ ; 

To him let children come, 

For he hath said they may ; 
His bosom then shall be their home, 

Their tears he'll wipe away. 
For all who early seek his face 

Shall surely taste his love ; 
Jesus shall guide them by his grace, 

To dwell with him above." 

One has beautifully remarked — " What a gratifying oc« 
cupatiou it is to an affectionate mind, even in a way of 
nature, to walk through the fields, and lead a little child by 
the hand, enjoying the infantine prattle, and striving to im- 
prove the time by some kind word of instruction ! I wish 
that every Christian pilgrim in the way of grace, as he 
walks through the Lord's pastures, would try to lead at 
least one child by the hand ; and perhaps while he is en- 
deavouring to guide and preserve his young and feeble com- 
panion, the Lord will recompense him double for all I Is 
cares, by comforting his own heart in the attempt. The 
experiment is worth the trial. It is supported by this 
recollection ; ' The Lord will come with strong hand, and 
his arm shall rule for him. Behold his reward is with him, 
and his work before him. He shall feed his flock like a 
shepherd ; he shall gather the lambs with his arms, an^ 
15* 173 



174 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The Sunday-school teacher's work. His crown. 

carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that 
are with young.'' "* 

The Sunday-school teacher is engaged in a work similar 
to that here recommended. He is trying to lead, not 
simply one child, but a whole group of little ones to the 
feet of Jesus. His employment in some respects resembles 
that of the minister of the cross. He is a co-worker with 
Christ in the enterprise of bringing mind — immortal, undy- 
ing mind— under the power of truth and holiness. Hence 
it is a perfectly legitimate inference, that the enterprise 
in which he is engaged is the cause of God, and cannot 
fail ultimately to succeed. The apocalyptic address to the 
angel of Smyrna, therefore, is an appropriate exhortation, 
with which to urge the Sunday-school teacher on in the 
path of effort and of duty, "Be thou faithful unto death, 
and I will give thee a crown of life." 

Though Sunday-school teachers often meet with dis- 
couragements, and have to encounter many difficulties, this 
should be their watchword with which to cheer each other 
onward in this high and holy path of benevolence : " If 
we are faithful, we shall have, when we reach the goal, a 
crown thickly set with rich and resplendent gems." Yes ! 
a group of young immortals, sanctified and saved through 
the truth which they were the happy instruments of dis- 
pensing — this will be their crown — their glorious crown 
of rejoicing in the day of the Lord ! What an encourage- 
ment is this, to prompt the Sunday-school teacher to 
renewed effort, as he takes his seat Sabbath after Sabbath 
in the midst of his class, and seeks to direct their minds to 
divine and heavenly things. 

This employment, especially when we witness any fruits 
of our labour, is calculated to enliven the mind with hope 
and fill it with gratitude. " And should our endeavours 
for a length of time apparently fail of success, yet we 
ought net to despair. Early impressions and convictions 

• The Young Cottager, by Legh Richmond. 



LITTLE ANN. 175 



The need of faith and prayer, and patient waiting. 



of conscience have sometimes lain dormant for years, and 
at last revived into precious existence and maturity." 
Where the fruit is not immediate, there is a greater demand 
for faith in the divine promises. The promises of God are 
sure. His word cannot fail. " Write it," therefore, " and 
make it plain upon the tables" of the child's memory, and 
conscience, and heart, " that he may run that readeth. At 
the end it shall speak, and not lie. Though it tarry, wait 
for it ; because it will surely come, it will not tarry." As 
certain as the rain and dew which moisten the earth render 
it fruitful, so certain will the word of God, communicated 
in faith and prayer, produce sooner or later decided and 
permanent results. It is the declaration of God himself, 
" As the rain cometh down and the snow from heaven, and 
returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh ii 
bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and 
bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goeth forth out 
of my mouth ; it shall not return unto me void, but it shall 
accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the 
thing whereto I sent it." Even should the Sunday-school 
teacher toil on till death, without witnessing any spiritual 
fruits resulting from his labours, if he is faithful in doing 
all that can be done for the salvation of his class, this divine 
promise will sustain him at every step, and make him feel 
that, whether he sees it here or not, his " labour will not be 
in vain in the Lord." 

Still 1 believe there are few cases, where Sunday-school 
teachers are truly faithful, in which they do not witness 
some decided fruits of their labour. Such fruits are cheer- 
ing; and are calculated to encourage our hearts and to 
strengthen our hands, in the efforts we are making to lead 
the young in the way everlasting. 

The following brief sketch of the last sickness of Ann 
Wenman may tend to animate and encourage those who are 
engaged in the noble, yet arduous and self-sacrificing duties 
of a Sunday-school teacher. 

n Wenman was attached to the Sunday-school of 



176 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



= 



Ann Weninan. Who should become teachers of babes. 

church, New York, in the summer of 1830, the time to 
which this brief notice relates. How long she had been 
previously a member of that school, or what had been her 
previous history, or the history of her family, I have no 
means of ascertaining. At the time to which I refer, she 

was in the class, and under the instruction of Mrs. R . 

And here 1 cannot but remark how well it would be — if 
married ladies who have leisure, and cultivated minds, and 
experience in managing children, would more frequenth 
engage in the duty of instructing the young in the Sunday- 
school ! In the primitive church, the office of a female 
catechist, an office not unlike that of the Sunday-school 
teacher, was, at one period, not permitted to be held by any 
who had not been the mother of children, that she might 
have patience and discretion, and the tenderness of mater- 
ial feeling to aid her in the proper training of her young 
charge.* But this duty — the duty of instructing children 
in the Sunday-school is generally thrown upon the young, 
who often have little or no experience. And this may ac- 
count in some degree for the want of those large spiritual 
results which we might reasonably expect from a moral 
enginery so powerful as that of the Sunday-school. 

Ann was highly favoured in her teacher. Mrs. R 

had lived long enough to know that life was not made up 
of flowers and golden dreams. She had tasted of a bitter 
draught from affliction's cup, and been thereby driven to 
seek comfort at the foot of the cross. Having surrendered 
herself to the Saviour, she felt it her duty to try to do 
something to promote his glory. The Sunday-school, 
therefore, very naturally presented itself as a field of labour 
in which she might testify her love to Christ, and advance 
the interests of his kingdom. With these views she en- 
tered the school, in sober earnest, to make her efforts pro- 
ductive. She soon found that Paul might plant, and 
Apollos water, but that God alone givetl. the increase. 

• Bingham's Antiq. book ii. sect 3. p. 306. 



LITTLE ANN. 177 



Prayer. Mode of teaching. Solemn appeal. 

She found that in the business of Sunday-school exertion 
she could do nothing without prayer. This, however, did 
not abate, but increased her active efforts to bring the minds 
of the children of her class under the direct influence of 
truth. In the attainment of this end, she thought it neces- 
sary to visit every member of her class frequently, usually 
as often as once a week. The immediate result of this 
effort was complete success in winning the entire affections 
of every child under her care. 

Mrs. R did not content herself simply with hearing 

the children of her class recite their lessons by rote, but 
sought, in a great variety of ways, to lead them to under' 
stand the truths they were repeating, and to soften and 
affect their hearts by those truths. It was her usual custom 
to impress upon their minds, every time she heard them 
recite, whether those considerations were called up by the 
lesson or not, — their accountableness to God — their own 
exceeding sinfulness — their entire dependence upon Christ 
for salvation — the importance of immediate repentance — 
and the certainty of death, and a coming judgment. 

This repeated exhibition of solemn truth, being in con- 
sonance with the divine precept of giving line upon line — 
precept upon precept — here a little and there a little — ex- 
erted a most benign and salutary influence upon the minds 
of all the members of the class, especially upon that of Ann 
Wenman. It was not unfrequently the case that, ai the 

close of Mrs. R 's remarks, Ann would appear deeply 

affected, and sometimes bathed in tears. 

One Sunday, Mrs. R was unusually s jlemn in her 

manner, and touching in her appeals. On that occasion 
she concluded her remarks by saying, — 

" My dear children, it is very possible that some of you 
may never again be permitted to come to this Sunday-school 
room, and hear these sacred truths. It is very possible 
that some of you may die, or be laid upon a sick and dying 
bed, before the dawn of the next Sabbath morning ! Have 
you truly repented of your sins ? Are you prepared to 



178 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The impression made upon Ann's mind. 

meet the great God of heaven ? Have you given your 
hearts to Christ ? How sad it would be, if you should be 
called away in the midst of your heedlessness, and go to 
the judgment in your sins !" 

These remarks made a very deep impression upon Ann's 
mind. She wept bitterly. The Spirit of God was carry- 
ing home the truth to her conscience. These remarks of 
her teacher seemed in some respects prophetic in reference 
to her. It was indeed the last time that Ann ever went tc 
that Sunday-school room. During the following week, she 
met with a shocking disaster, which ultimately terminated 
her career, and bore her into the eternal world. We shall, 
in the next chapter, proceed to detail some of the circum- 
stances connected with this melancholy event, and show 
how the mind of this child was affected in view of eternal 
things. 



LITTLE ANN. 179 



What may be seen in the abode of poverty. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE FATAL DISASTER. 

" No present health can health ensure 
For yet an hour to come ; 
No medicine, though it oft can cure, 
Can always balk the tomb." 

Cowper. 

Ann Wenman was the child of a pooi widow, who sup- 
ported herself by the labour of her own hands. Perhaps 
the thought may cross the reader's mind, that it is hardly 
worth his while to stop to read the next dozen pages of 
this volume, inasmuch as all they promise is to conduct 
him into the lowly tenement of want, that he may learn 
how a poor sick child, whose intellectual powers were not 
above mediocrity, and in whose religious exercises there 
was nothing remarkable, felt and acted on a dying bed 
And yet if the reader loves the Saviour, and bears in mind 
how much it cost to redeem the soul of a poor child — if he 
can find pleasure in tracing the workings of divine grace 
in the humblest subject upon which the Holy Spirit ope- 
rates — we think he will find, even in this lowly instance, 
around which no feelings of sentimentalism can be gather- 
ed, enough to awaken the emotions of adoring love, and 
cause him to exclaim, This is the mighty power of God J 
Into that abode of poverty, whither we purpose to conduct 
the reader, the Lord Jesus Christ condescended to enter ; 
yea, the Holy Spirit thought it not beneath the exalted 
work on which he was sent, to visit that humble spot daily 
with his sacred presence. 



180 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Ann. Her clothes on fire. Her first wish. 

As we have already remarked, Ann's mother was obliged 
to earn her livelihood by daily toil, which usually took her 
away early in the morning from her family, whom she did 
not see again till evening. Ann, being the eldest of the 
children, was usually left in charge with the other children. 
She was now about eleven years old, and uncommonly 
sedate and womanly for one of her age. On the morning 
upon which the fatal accident occurred, to which allusion 

has been already made, Mrs. W went from home at a 

very early hour, leaving Ann to prepare breakfast for her- 
self and the children. About the time her mother left, 
Ann arose and entered upon the duties which had been 
committed to her. She had already made a fire in a move- 
able furnace which stood on the hearth, in the fire-place, 
and had placed the lamp with which she had kindled the 
fire down on the floor beside her. As she proceeded in 
these preparations for breakfast, while in the act of stoop- 
ing down to place the tea-kettle on the furnace, her clothes, 
which were of a cotton fabric, came in contact with the 
flame of the lamp, and were in a moment in a light blaze. 
No one that has not witnessed a spectacle of this kind, can 
scarcely conceive the agony of such a moment. What 
could she do ? There was no one near her that could 
render her any assistance. Her screams brought some per- 
son in an adjoining tenement to her aid ; but before relief 
could be rendered, her back from her neck to her feet was 
so burned, that the physician remarked, that had the flame 
continued unextinguished two minutes more, she would 
have been a corpse. 

The first thing that Ann said, after her wounds were 
dressed, and her mother sat down by her to try to soothe 
her suffering, was — 

" Will you not send for Mrs. R , my Sunday-school 

teacher ? I think I shall not get well, and I wish to see 
her." 

Mrs. R— was immediately informed of the dreadful 
accident that had befallen Ann. Very much distressed 



LITTLE ANN. 181 



Ann's interview with her Sunday-school teacher. 



with this intelligence, she hastened to the spot, to see what 
relief or assistance she could render. The remark that 

this little sufferer made when Mrs. R first entered the 

door, shows that pious remarks addressed to children are 
seldom lost. 

" Do you not recollect," said she, " that you told me 
last Sunday, that very likely some one of us would die, or 
would be laid upon a dying bed before the close of the 
week ? I think this is my case — I do not think I shall 
ever get well." 

Mrs. R — was deeply affected by this burst of deep 

and ingenuous feeling on the part of Ann, and gave her 
that kind and salutary advice which her case seemed to 
demand. Ann had no personal acquaintance with her pas- 
tor. She had heard him address the children frequently, 
and speak to them about their eternal salvation, as from 
Sunday to Sunday he came into the school, to see how they 
were progressing. Her mind was impressed with the con- 
viction, that there was but little probability that she should 
get well, and she now felt anxious to do all that she could 
to be prepared for death. She thought her minister could 
tell her what she must do to die happy, and she, therefore, 

besought Mrs. R to invite him to come and see her. 

Several days, however, passed after this occurrence, before 
he could visit her. 

The impression made upon my mind, at my first call, 
will never be erased. The spirit of this child seemed to 
be in strange and striking contrast with every thing around 
me. It was a hot summer's morning, the weather exceed- 
ingly sultry and oppressive. All nature appeared to droop, 
and the feeble and unsteady step of each passer by indi- 
cated the universal sense of lassitude that was felt. Ann's 
mind alone seemed unenfeebled, and full of wakeful and 
active energy. The place where she was lying was a low 
basement room, in an indifferent looking house. The room 
itself, however, bore the aspect of cleanliness and comfort. 

As I entered, Ann recognised me, and announced my 

16 



182 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Ann's conversation with her pastor. 

name, although I had no recollection of ever having seen 
her before. 

Though suffering much and intense pain, a smile lit up 
her countenance at the sight of one who could speak to hei 
about her soul. 

I sat down by her bed, and remarked, — 

" Ann, I feel grieved to hear of the dreadful accident 
that has befallen you ; but God, I doubt not, means to do you 
good by this affliction. Perhaps he has let the fire burn 
your body, so that your soul need not be burnt up for ever. 
If all the suffering you feel shall lead you to pray and seek 
God's face and favour, so that in the end you become his 
child, you will not regret that this dreadful accident has 
happened. I was very happy to know that you wished to 
see me. I presume you wish me to talk to you about your 
soul. I trust you have learned by your attendance upon 
the Sunday-school, that in order to die in peace and dwell 
with God in life everlasting, it is necessary we should be 
changed and made new creatures. Are you aware, Ann, 
of this?" 

" Yes, sir," she replied, " and it was on this account I 
wanted to see you." 

" Well, Ann, how are we to be saved ? How shall we 
be made fit to dwell with God ? Can we make ourselves 
holy and pleasing in the sight of God ?" 

" O no," was her ready reply, " we cannot make one 
hair black or white, much less make our sinful hearts clean 
in the sight of God — Christ must save us." 

Struck with the intelligent manner in which she respond- 
ed to my questions, I wished to know whether indeed 
she had any experimental knowledge of the way of life. 
I took up a Bible which was lying on the bed near her, and 
read to her several portions of Scripture, relating to our 
guilt and sinfulness by nature, and the impossibility of 
pleasing God or gaining his favour without holiness ; and 
then turned and read other short selections descriptive of 
the Saviour's errand to this earth, and the great work he 



LITTLE ANN. 183 



Conversation with Ann. 



came to accomplish. This was followed by reading some 
of the offers of mercy and pressing invitations, addressed 
to sinners in the gospel. 

Making some remarks by way of explanation upon each 
passage as I went along, I concluded by saying : 

" Do you think what I have been reading has any rela- 
tion to you ?" 

" I think it all relates to me," she replied. 

" Well, which of these passages gives you most com- 
fort ?" 

" That Christ has come into the world to save sinners," 
was her immediate reply. 

" Do you then think that you are a sinner, and that you 
can be saved only by Jesus Christ's coming into the 
world ?" 

" I do. I know that I am a great sinner, and I have 
sometimes thought I should never be happy again ; for the 
recollection of my past wrong doings rises up so before 
me ; but when I remember what is said about Christ's 
coming to die for sinners, I hope he will have mercy upon 
me." 

" Do you feel willing, Ann, to give yourself up to God; 
are you ready to acquiesce in whatever he determines 
concerning you ?" 

" I trust I am." 

" Then you are willing to die ?" 

" / wish to die" was her answer. 

" You should look up to your heavenly Father, Ann, 
continually for pardon and grace. He hears children when 
they pray — He will blot out their sins for the sake of his 
Son — He will make them every way resigned to his holy 
will." 

I then kneeled down by her bedside, and prayed : she 
repeated with me the Lord's Prayer, and appeared deeply 
affected by this devotional exercise. 

As I left the room, Ann begged of me that, if it would 
not be too much trouble, I would call again. 



184 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The widowed mother. 



Her widowed mother followed me out of the door, and, 
with eyes full of tears, said, " Ann is indeed an altered 
child. She used to be fretful, and easily irritated ; but 
now, she is as meek and patient as a lamb. O, sir, you 
cannot think with how much patience she bears all her 
pains ; and she is talking constantly about religion. Last 
night, as I was lifting her up in the bed, she said, ' Dear 
mother, I expect I shall die, but I hope we shall meet at 
God's right hand.' " 

The mother was not professedly pious. Like hundreds 
of others in our large cities, who seldom attend upon any 
place of public worship, though the streams of earthly 
happiness were dried up around her, she was still looking 
to the broken cisterns of earth for relief. The Lord saw 
it necessary to lay the rod of affliction upon her again 
and again. One and another were taken, till she was a 
childless widow. These multiplied afflictions, it v hoped, 
led her to the fountain of living waters. 



LITTLE ANN. 184 



Contrast between Socrates and Christ 



CHAPTER III. 

EVIDENCES OF A WORK OF GRACE. 

A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not 
quench. From the twelfth of St. Matthew. 

Socrates would not permit any to enter his school who 
were not thoroughly acquainted with geometry. Jesus 
Christ condescends to teach the poorest child that lifts up 
its feeble cry for help. The poor, the ignorant, and the 
dying find him ever attentive to their supplication. Though 
Ann lived for several months, she was gradually wasting 
down to death, and had very little relief, at any time, from 
pain. She was visited by a number of pious females 
during this period ; and, after her decease, I requested one, 
whom I knew had seen her frequently during her illness, 
to send me, in writing, the substance of any conversations 
that might be deemed interesting or useful. This request 
was kindly granted, by the following communication : — 

" My dear Sir, — As it is a great gratification to me to 
comply with all your wishes, I was resolved to make the 
attempt to do so in the case of little Ann. And upon re- 
curring to scenes I witnessed in her sick room, I find im- 
pressed upon my memory expressions of hers, which are 
interesting to me now still more than they were when first 
uttered, as they afford the consoling hope that she is now 
near that Redeemer whom she had learned to love while 
on earth. 

" Conversing with Ann, one day, I asked her, what event 
it was that happened to all 1 

16* 



186 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Ann's view of the office of Christ. 



" * We all must die,' was her answer. 

" 'What becomes of our bodies?' 

" ' They are put in the grave.' 

44 ' Do our souls also die V 

" ' No, they go to another world.' 

" « Do you think that all those who go to another world 
are happy V 

" ' O no — only they who are good.' 

44 1 asked her what she meant by being good ? She was 
silent a moment, and then said, ' Those who love God and 
pray to him.' 

" 'Why should we love God?' 

" ' Because he made us, and sent his Son Jesus Christ 
to redeem us.' 

" ' How did he redeem us ? 

" ' He left heaven, and came into this world, and died 
for sinners.' 

" * Was it necessary for any one to die for us V 

44 ' Yes, because we had sinned against God, and he was 
angry ; but he punished Jesus instead of us. 

44 ' You say that he came into the world to save sin- 
ners — does he save every sinner ?' 

44 4 No — only those who are sorry for their sins, and go 
to him and beg him to forgive them.' 

44 4 Do you feel yourself to be a sinner ?' 

44 4 O, yes ! I know that I am.' 

44 4 Why do you think so ? you are but a little girl.' 

44 4 Yes — but I know that I have done a great many 
wicked things.' 

44 4 Have you felt sorry for your sins ?' 

44 4 Yes,' said she, with much feeling, 4 very sorry. 1 

44 4 Then what do you do ?' 

44 4 1 pray to Jesus Christ that he will have mercy upon 
me and forgive me.' 

44 4 And do you think he hears you V 

44 4 Yes — for my minister says he always hears those 
who are in earnest for what they ask.' 



LITTLE ANN. 187 



Office of the Holy Spirit. 



" A few days after, I called again. She received me with 
a sweet smile, saying she was glad to see any one who 
would talk with her about her soul. * Our minister,' said 
she, ' has been here, and he read the Bible to me, and told 
me what it meant, and prayed for me : — was it not very 
kind V 

" ' My dear little girl, your minister loves to visit the sick; 
but let us now think of those things that we were speaking 
of the last time I saw you. You said that you had done 
many things that were not right. Now, let me ask, why 
you did them ? — why have you not kept God's holy 
laws V 

" She made me no answer. 

" * What kind of a heart did you come into the world with?' 

" ' With a sinful heart,' she replied, * and that must be 
the reason why I have not done as I ought to have done— 
is it not V 

" ' Yes, Ann — it is because our hearts are wrong, that our 
actions are so too. If our hearts were right, we should love 
God, and delight to think of him, and do every thing to 
please him. But we are unholy and depraved, and love the 
things of this world more than the things of God. But do 
you think that we can enter God's heavenly kingdom with 
unholy hearts V 

" ' O no.' 

" ' Then what must we do ? What does your catechism 
teach you that the Holy Spirit does for us V 

" ' The Holy Spirit sanctifies us.' 

" * What is the meaning of sanctify?' 

" * To make holy.' 

" • Well, this means that God's Spirit must change your 
heart to make it new and holy. Therefore, when you 
pray to your Saviour to forgive your sins, what else should 
you pray for ?' 

" * For his Holy Spirit to change my heart ; and this * 
will and do pray for.' 

" The next time I saw her she looked very ill, and was 



188 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Preparation for death. 

exercised with much pain ; but, with a pleasing serenity of 
countenance, said, — 

" * I have been praying that ii* I am to die now, I may be 
prepared for heaven ; and that 1 may be enabled to bear, 
with patience, all that the Lord may be pleased to lay upon 
me. If I get well, O, how I shall love to go to my Sunday- 
school and church again. I hope I shall be a very different 
girl, and improve more than I ever have done before.' 

" On another occasion, I asked her if she did not grow 
weary and discouraged in suffering so much pain ? 

" 'Sometimes,' said she, * I do ; but then I think about 
God, and heaven, and Jesus Christ, how much he suffered 
for us ; and that eases my pain, and makes one love him. 
Besides, a good lady sent me a hymn-book, and I have 
been learning a hymn to say to you.' 

" She then opened the book, and handing it to me, re- 
peated the hymn, beginning, — 

1 Jesus, Saviour of my soul, 
Let me to thy bosom fly !' 

" This was the last time I had any conversation with her. 

" The next time I saw her, the violence of the pain she 
endured had produced spasms ; and the next thing I heard, 
she was no more. Yours, &c." 

Ann continued gradually to grow in grace, and to be 
manifestly ripening for heaven. Her views of divine truth 
became more distinct, and her hopes more firmly anchored 
in the Saviour, as she drew near the shaded valley of the 
king of terrors. The approach of that last consummating 
event, which closes our account, and ushers the soul into 
the unveiled presence of a holy and heart-searching God, 
cannot be contemplated, even by the established Christian, 
without deep and solemn awe. It is a lamentable truth that 
too many professed Christians are living for this world. 
Hence they are never prepared to die. Death comes to. 
them clad in terror's garb. It will be abundantly manifest 



LIT1LE ANN. 1 8S 



Strong presentiment of deatrt. 



if we will reflect for a moment, that one great cause why 
this event is so much dreaded is. that we have laid up too 
many treasures upon earth. We have too many interests 
and objects of attachment in this world. 

They who have withdrawn their affections from the 
world, and laid up all their treasures in heaven, generally 
die full of joy and triumph. 

Necessary absence, for a few weeks previous to Ann's 
death, deprived me of the satisfaction of being with her in 
her last moments. The few particulars that I have to 
record, I received from her sorrowing and bereaved 
mother. 

Ann continued to manifest to the last great patience, while 
enduring the most excruciating suffering. Notwithstanding 
all her friends seemed to cherish the hope that she would 
recover, yet she most evidently had a strong presentiment 
that it would be otherwise. About a fortnight before her 
death, her grandmother thought to please her by telling her 
that she had just been purchasing her two new dresses. 

" 1 shall want but one, and that a white one," said Ann, 
with great solemnity. 

About this time some one came in, and, addressing her, 
said, — 

" You little sufferer, how my heart bleeds for you." 

Ann immediately replied, " It is nothing to what I de- 
serve — nothing to what Christ suffered forme." 

A few days after this, her grandmother, perceiving that 
she was sinking rapidly, said to her, — 

" Ann, the Almighty is able to raise you up to health ; 
Or, if he has otherwise determined, he is able to conduct 
you to a world of happiness." 

" Yes," was her immediate reply; " yes, and glory be 
to Jesus, my Saviour !" 

Eight or ten days before hex death, her mind seemed 
somewhat, clouded and depressed. The Lord was evi- 
dently revealing to her more of the evil of sin. There was 
a hymn that she recollected having heard, although she hac? 



190 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Ann's peaceful death. 



not committed it to memory. She wished her mother to 
read it to ^et ^r/ain and again. The hymn was the fol- 
lowing: — 

" O for a closer walk with God ! 
A calm and heavenly frame ; 
A light to shine upon the road 
That leads me to the Lamb," &c. 

About half an hour before she ceased to breathe, she 
intimated a wish that this hymn might be read to her. It 
was ; and while the fourth verse was being read, — 

" Return, O heavenly Dove, return, 
Sweet messenger of rest," 

she smiled, laying her fingers upon her breast, as much as 
to say, " I now feel his holy and peaceful influence within." 

She then closed her eyes, and lay for a while. Her 
nother went to her bedside, and said, gently, — 

" Ann, my dear, do you still know me ?" 

She opened her eyes, and replied by a faint smile. 

" I fear," continued her mother, " I fear that you will 
soon leave us ; do you feel willing and resigned to go ?" 

" Yes, yes," was her reply. 

Shortly after, she clasped her hands together, as if in 
prayer, and said aloud, " O God receive " 

Her breath had left her motionless body before the peti- 
tion was concluded, and doubtless her soul was received 
into the rest of the blessed. 

It was early in the morning that the liberated spirit of 
little Ann winged its way to the bright abodes of everlast- 
ing peace. Late in the afternoon of the next day, there 
was assembled, in the lowly habitation of her mother, 
a solemn group, made up principally of Sunday-school 
teachers, to pay the last offices of respect to the remains 
of one i'i relation to whom the hope was confidently che- 
rished that she slept in Jesus. The scene and circum- 
stances I distinctly recollect. In that retired, lowly "oom, 



LITTLE ANN. 191 



Reflections at the funeral. 



where Ann had breathed her last breath, and where her body, 
enclosed in a plain coffin, now lay in all the quietness of 
death, there was a deep and solemn feeling pervading the 
whole group that were assembled on this occasion We all 
felt that the presence of God was there. The voice of 
prayer seemed to open many deep gushing fountains of 
sensibility. We could not but look up with gratitude, and 
wonder, and adoring love, to our heavenly Father, that, in 
the death of this young Christian, he had given such an 
evidence of his gracious favour towards our Sunday-school. 
We then felt, as we kneeled down to thank him for his 
mercy, that if no other good had been done, or ever should 
be done, by our efforts in the Sunday-school, that there 
was already conferred upon us an abundant remuneration 
for all our labour and toil. One soul was now before the 
throne, chanting the high praises of God, that might have 
been in the regions of wailing and wo, but for this our hum- 
ble instrumentality. When we thought of Ann, now deliver- 
ed for ever from pain and sorrow — from the bufferings of the 
world and the temptations of sin ; when, with the eye of 
faith, we followed her up to the bright and everlasting hills 
whither she had gone, and thought of all the glories and 
the blesssedness that surrounded the throne of God and the 
Lamb, we dried up our tears, and praised the Lord for his 
goodness. We felt that the sources of consolation were so 
rich and abundant that even her bereaved mother ought not 
to weep. There had been conferred upon her child a 
greater benefit than it was possible for all the treasures 
of earth to procure for her. Had those Sunday-school 
teachers possessed such wealth and influence, that they 
could have placed Ann in circumstances where she would 
have enjoyed the highest literary advantages, and acquired 
the most finished education ; had they been able to have 
thrown within her reach an immense fortune, so that she 
could have passed her days in ease and splendour, they 
would have done far less for her than they had already done 
by leading her to the feet of Jesus. Had her child, througk 




192 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The beatific state. Goodness of God. 

the instrumentality of those Sunday-school teachers, been 
advanced to the highest pitch of intellectual culture, 01 
elevated to the loftiest pinnacle of human distinction, that 
widowed mother would have had far less reason for grati- 
tude and thankfulness than she now had. The education 
of her child was now complete. Ann, now that the bands 
of mortality had burst from around her, knew vastly more 
than the wisest of those who lingered on the earth. Al- 
ready had she been admitted into the society of angels and 
just men made perfect. Already had she put on robes 
of glory, and was shining like a star in the firmament of 
heaven. She was where the inhabitants no more say, I 
am sick ; where sin and sorrow never enter ; where all is 
joy, and love, and peace, and holiness. There was enough 
in these reflections not only to dry up a mother's tears, 
but to fill her heart with gratitude, and her mouth with 
songs of praise. "When she thought where her child was— 
and how much better provided for, than she could have 
been, were she still on the earth — she could not refrain 
from feeling something of the power of that pious senti- 
ment, which, in one of Zion's sacred songs, is distinctly 
reiterated twenty-six times within the compass of as many 
verses, and that without the slightest approach to vain re- 
petition. " O give thanks unto the Lord ; for he is good : 
for his mercy endureth for ever.'''' In our past history, 
how many thousand instances can we recount of God's 
loving-kindness to us ; and surely under each one of these 
we ought to write — He is good : for his mercy endureth 
for ever. 

While in the midst of this humble funeral group, with 
my heart filled with calm and holy thoughts, I could not 
but be forcibly reminded of another scene, that a few days 
previous I had witnessed. That was also a funeral scene 
— but how different from this ! Then we were in the man- 
sion of wealth. The indications of pomp and splendoui 
met the eye at every turn. All the spacious apartments 
of the extended dwelling were thrown open, and were now 



LITTLE ANN. 193 



The funeral of one of earth's admired children. 



filled to overflowing. Scarfs, and sable weeds, and all the 
external insignia of mourning, were there. A long train 
of carriages, reaching for more than a half of a mile, were 
m waiting to follow the senseless clay to its low and long 
resting place in the cemetery. She, for whom all this pa- 
rade was making, had gone to eternity without leaving the 
slightest evidence that her peace was made with God. 
She was the indulged child of wealthy parents. Every 
expense had been lavished upon her education ; and she 
had just now entered upon life, young, beautiful, and ac- 
complished. She had just began to figure amid the bril- 
liant circles of fashion, and all the infatuation of a mind 
intoxicated with the first visions of earthly pleasure x ia 
upon her, when suddenly the hand of God touched her 
young and apparently vigorous frame with deadly and 
blighting disease. She lived only a few days. And 
though, from the beginning, the physician warned the 
parents that this sickness would terminate fatally, no minis 
ter of the cross was permitted to visit thai sick room ; for 
in their tenderness for their child, those parents could not 
endure the thought of her being alarmed with the idea that 
she was going to die. Thus in their blindness, acting as 
they thought very tenderly, the awful secret was kept from 
her to the last. She knew not her danger, till she actually 
made the final, irrecoverable plunge into the eternal world. 

While I saw all this vain pageant at her funeral, got up 
*X) soothe the feelings and gratify the pride of the living, 1 
could not but ask myself, " With what emotions must this 
departed one, who, in all probability, has gone into eter- 
aity impenitent and unpardoned — with what emotions 
nust her lost spirit look out upon all this parade made over 
ter poor, perishing body V 

But when we saw Ann's remains borne to the grave, 

ther ieelings arose in our minds. Then we could not but 

:*hink, as we saw the little procession moving on, That there 

is one " who sleeps in Jesus, whom God will bring with 

him*' there is one who will be owned " when Christ 

17 



194 GATHFPFD FPAGMENTS. 

The 'jest wish for our children. 



shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be admired 
in all them that believe." And the thought of my heart 
then was, I will never seek great things for my children. 
I will cherish no anxieties to see them rich, and honoured, 
and elevated to the high places of earth ; but all that I will 
ask will be, to see them the subdued and regenerated 
children of God ; to see them set in heavenly places in 
Christ Jesus, — fitted for humble usefulness, and numbered 
with the saints in glory everlasting. 






THE 



MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS 



CHAPTER I. 

A JOURNEY. 



" What a goodly prospect spreads around, 

Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, 
And glittering towns, and gilded streams." 

Thomson. 

Every situation in which we are placed, and every 
scene through which we pass, furnishes us with new op- 
portunities of studying the ways and wisdom of God. The 
great Author of our being has so framed the natural world, 
and so regulates its concerns, that all the objects and 
events which fall within the circle of our knowledge, bear 
impressed upon them many useful lessons of moral in- 
struction. 

The traveller, through whatever region he passes, will 
be able to learn, every day, something that is valuable. 
Unquestionably he should have a definite object for which 
he leaves his home, and makes his sojourn among stran- 
gers. Whether that object be business, or health, or the 
acquisition of knowledge, he will find in the pursuit of it 
much to instruct and interest him in the diversified scenes 
through which he passes. To acquire valuable ideas and 
stores of useful knowledge, it is not necessary that one 

195 



196 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The opportunities of improvement on a journey. 



should spend his evenings amid the circles of the learned, 
or his days among the dusty and ponderous tomes of an- 
cient lore. In the stage-coach, or at the public inn, the 
traveller, while he sits taciturn and unknown, can often 
witness a development of human nature which he would 
have in vain sought in the circle of his own neighbour- 
hood, and which may prove a valuable acquisition to his 
stock of knowledge. 

Even he who travels without companions may find, in 
the mute and inanimate objects around him, much to oc- 
cupy and interest his thoughts. His course for a while 
may be over rough roads and rugged mountains. He may 
have to make his way through the mire and gloom of the 
deep valley, while the heavens above are dark with clouds, 
which hang, like sable drapery, around the gathering tem- 
pest. But as he proceeds, the scene by and by will 
change. The surrounding country will put on a more 
inviting aspect. The storm will pass over, and the sky 
be again illumined with all the bright beams of the glo- 
rious sun. 

Something like the preceding train of reflections was 
awakened in my mind many years since, by an excursion 
I had then recently made through one of the New England 
states, under very peculiar circumstances. Oppressed with 
the heat of the city, worn out with incessant toils, and en- 
feebled by disease, I had entered the steamboat, on a sultry 
morning in August, with scarcely strength enough to sit 
up, amid the crowd that were jostling and pressing against 
each other upon the deck. Though many enchanting scenes 
stretched before us, as we passed up the noble Hudson, 
entered the highlands, and caught a view of the distant 
Catskill, yet those scenes had little power to awaken their 
wonted emotions in my bosom. The next day, with 
scarcely power to sit steadily upon a horse, I started from 
the place of our landing, with no other companion, save 
the beast on which I rode, to try the invigorating influ- 
ence of the mountain air of Veimont. As I pursued my 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 191 

TI e incidents of a single day. Thunder storm. 



route, by short stages, on the west side of the Green Mount- 
ains, I found my health gradually improving, and my heart 
often drawn out in sweet and delightful communion with 
the glorious Being that built the grand and majestic temple 
of nature through which I was passing. It was not all 
sunshine and bright enchantment around me, however. 
My journey, like the pathway of life, conducted me 
through a variety of scenes. There were dark and cloudy 
days ; and yet they were succeeded by bright and sunny 
ones. The incidents of a single day will illustrate the 
idea that I would present to the reader. 

I had been travelling for some hours over unj IcasaTU 
roads, and beneath a lowering sky. The rain at length 
began to descend. I rode on with all speed to a neigh- 
bouring farm-house. Here I found a ready shelter for 
myself and horse. The country around me was wild and 
mountainous. On either side of me, running far to the 
north, were lofty ranges of bare and barren rook, rising up 
like immense columns, upon which two sides of the 
vaulted arch above seemed to rest. The sky, over head, 
was filled with commotion. Huge masses of dark clouds 
rolled one above another, and towering on high, like vast 
pyramids, presented a scene at once the most awful and 
sublime. As yet, all was still and noiseless ; but soon the 
wind began to roar, and the voice of thunder to break upon 
the startled ear. O ! it was then an hour of solemn inte- 
rest ! I felt as if I was indeed standing in the immediate 
presence of God, as I stood and heard peal after peal roll- 
ing from the top of the mountain to the bottom of the val- 
ley, and then answered by a thousand echoes from the 
neighbouring rocks and hills. 

The storm, however, was but of short duration, and I 
was soon again on my way. As I ascended from this deep 
ravine, the sun suddenly broke through the clouds, and a 
varied and enchanting landscape opened before me. 

On one side, the forest skirting down from the sloping 
mountain to the very margin of the road, screened and 
17* 



198 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

A lovely prospect. A country school-house. 

sheltered me from the glowing heat with its delightfu. 
shade. At my feet, a little rivulet of pure limpid water, 
gurgling along, rolled its downward way over countless 
pebbles of every colour, shade, and shape, washed and 
worn by this crystal rill that for ages had sparkled over 
them. 

On the other side were spread out, in all their native 
Deauty and richness, gay sunny fields, smiling beneath the 
bounty and blessing of the infinite Creator. Countless 
enclosures, with all the rural treasures they protected, met 
my eye at one glance, and awakened feelings of the most 
delightful and tranquillizing nature. Here the rich clover, 
with its ten thousand heads, nodding in the breeze, and 
emitting its sweet fragrance. There the verdant meadow 
— the thistly lawn — the white tasselled corn — the golden 
wheat — fields of grain waving in the gentle breeze, and 
pasturcf. filled with herds of cattle, or white with flocks of 
sheep, presented a scene sweet, varied, and beautiful be • 
yond description. 

Every step I took brought some new and interesting 
object to my notice. Having reached the summit of the 
hill, a country school-house, standing by the side of the 
road, met my view, and started various pleasing trains of 
thought. The country school-house must always be an 
object of interest to the traveller. As I passed, I heard 
the young prattlers conning over their tasks, while some 
were reading or reciting their lessons. And I then thought 
how can the voices of children fall upon any ear without 
awakening the deepest and tenderest emotions of interest ? 

As I heard those childlike tones I was reminded of the 
infant band that I had once sought to train for the skies in 
the Sunday-school room ; and the recollections of that holy 
and interesting employment came up to my memory with 
sweet and delightful vividness. Then too my heart 
throbbed with new interest as I thought of the sweet little 
Taces that had oft looked so smilingly on me. And then I 
coulH not but weep — for the smile on those faces was now 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. l l J9 

Glorified little ones. A beautiful scene. 



congealed in death. Bereavement had made me childless 
One sad stroke had torn from me my little ones, and hie 
them in the grave. But God had done it : and in the 
multitude of my sorrows his comforts had refreshed my 
soul. As I passed on, and left behind me that humble 
school-room, which by the power of association had awak- 
ened these trains of reflection, and called up scenes that 
had past, my tenderest thoughts were fixed upon the 
glorified images of those dear ones in eternity. I seemed 
to follow them in their ascending way up to that world of 
blessedness whither they had gone, and to behold them 
with the eye of faith, clothed in robes A transcendent 
beauty, holding harps in their little hands, following the 
Lamb whithersoever he went, and swelling with their 
infant voices the music and the melody of heaven. 

As I advanced on my journey, I at length reached a left} 
eminence, from which I could look off over the tops of the 
trees that stood in the lowland beneath, to the rich and 
well cultivated country that stretched in countless fields up 
the precipitous sides of the mountain, exhibiting at different 
points the signs of culture and fertility carried to its very 
summit. Still more remote, in the background, appeared 
one range of mountains rising above another, till the itk>*< 
distant were lost in the clouds. Upon this beautiful scene 
as cloud after cloud crossed the sun's bright disk, rested 
alternately light and shade. 

How many delightful themes for pious meditation will 
such a transition of scene, and succession of objects, thought 
I, suggest to the mind of the solitary traveller, if God be 
in all his thoughts ! He will be strikingly impressed with 
the truth that human life is but a journey — that the Chris- 
tian is a pilgrim and stranger upon the earth, and his home 
far distant. 

During every tour he makes, he passes through extensive 
tracts of country, where he knows not a face he meets ; and 
where he sees hundreds engaged in pleasure, and business, 
in which he has neither lot nor part. So, though his course 



200 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Numerous incidents fall under the notice of the traveller. 



through life be solitary, though he live in obscurity, un- 
known to the great, unapplauded by the multitude, yet 
may he still keep on in his heavenly way, and be continu- 
ally approximating to the end of his journey. Though 
his path may sometimes be rough and difficult, and the 
heavens above may seem to gather blackness and frown 
upon him, yet if he continues to go forward, still believing, 
still trusting in the divine promises, a new scene of things 
will quickly succeed. The lustre of God's reconciled 
countenance will burst through the surrounding gloom, and 
beam resplendently upon his path, and upon all the pros- 
pect before him ; imparting celestial beauty and loveliness 
to every object upon which it rests. I would here also 
remark that there are numerous incidents falling within the 
notice of the traveller, which are calculated to interest him 
deeply. 

In illustration of this remark I must again call the atten- 
tion of the reader to an occurrence connected with this 
journey of which I have already given him some account. 
[t was only a few days after the occurrence of the incidents 
just before referred to, that I found myself just at sunset 
seated in a neat parlour at a public inn, in company with 
oeveral other individuals, all of whom appeared entire 
strangers to each other. Among the number were two 
ladies : the one grave and matronly in her appearance, the 
other more sprightly and youthful, who, as I subsequently 
learned, was travelling under the escort of her brother, a 
young gentleman not more than sixteen or eighteen years 
old, whose modest and taciturn habits, and unobtrusive 
manners, made us, during a long and animated conversa- 
tion, almost unconscious of his presence, till a certain 
occasion called forth a display of the brilliant powers of 
his extraordinary mind. The young lady's name was 
Cornelia Trueman. The other lady gave us as her ad- 
dress, Mrs, Janeway. 

Another individual in this group was an intelligent and 
gentlemanly man, whose name I afterwards learnt to be 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 20, 

The company at an inn. 



Colchester. This constituted the entire company in the 
midst of whom I found myself seated at the time just al- 
luded to. Every thing around and within the public house 
appeared remarkably quiet, there being no other guests for 
the night except those above described. In the common 
parlour where we were all seated, there was with each one 
an apparent backwardness in entering npon any thing like 
general conversation. To this remark, however, I must 
make one exception. Mr. Colchester, who was evidently 
of an affable turn, seemed determined to encourage and 
promote a free interchange of thoughts and opinions. He 
had already made several efforts to draw us into conversa- 
tion, which had proved unavailing. 

I sat by the window leaning on my arm, looking at the 
distant mountain, from which the last rays of reflected light 
were fading. 

" There has been a great and fearful disaster on the othei 
side of the mountain," said Mr. C — — , still persisting in 
his attempt to promote sociability, and directing his dis- 
course to me. 

" I had not heard of it," said I, starting from my abstract- 
ed posture, and turning towards him. 

" Many lives have been lost, and much property de- 
stroyed," continued he. 

This last remark drew the attention of the whole com- 
pany towards him, and the request was instantly made that 
he would favour us with the particulars of the catastrophe 
to which he alluded. To this he readily assented. 



202 GATHERED FAAGMENTS. 

A description. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE INUNDATION. 

Thou didst blow with thy wind ; the sea covered them. 
They sank as lead in the mighty waters. 

From the Ibth of Exodut. 

" New Haven river," said Mr. Colchester, entering 
upon the description with the ease and fluency of one 
accustomed to communicate his thoughts to others, " New 
Haven river has its source among the mountains of Bristol 
and Lincoln. Its course, for a while, is precipitous and 
rapid, leaping down rocky shelves, and roaring amid the 
wild solitudes through which it passes, till at length, 
emerging from the mountains, it winds with a swift cur- 
rent through an open country. At New Haven West 
Mills, or Beman Hollow, the tract of interval land through 
which the stream passes is narrowed, and the stream itself 
is hemmed in by precipitous banks, and ranges of hills on 
either side, forming, as one would think, an impassable bar- 
rier against the swelling waters, until they are lost in Otter 
creek, about a mile below this point. 

" At Beman Hollow, a little hamlet had been gradually- 
formed, from the advantages the place afforded for esta- 
blishing mills and manufactories. Some of the houses 
were built near the margin of the river ; others, more re- 
mote, on the sloping sides of the hill. 

" On the 26th of , the stream, in consequence of 

heavy rains, had risen unusually high, so that some of the 
inhabitants in the neighbourhood became alarmed, and left 
Iheii dwellings. Those, however, who lived farther back 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 20S 

Preparation for death. Scene in Beinan Hollow. 

i>mn incr stfeam were free from all apprehensions of evil, 
antl retired to their rest, that evening, with a feeling of 
perfect security. 

" How true it is, that every night when we lay our head 
upon our pillow, we ought to be prepared to awake in eter- 
nity ! If it were consistent with the divine will, I, for 
myself, should desire to have some previous intimation of 
the approach of that solemn event which closes the scene 
of our probation, and introduces us into the immediate and 
unveiled presence of the Judge Eternal. To my mind, 
there is something awful and terrific in the manner in 
which the Egyptians perished in the Red Sea : — carrying 
in their hands the weapons of death — burning with rage, 
and thirst for blood ; and now having the spoil almost 
within their grasp, God, with his breath, dissolved the 
subtile and mysterious chain that bound each drop in the 
upright wall to its kindred drop, and, in an instant, the 
mighty waters rushed back, and swept them all into eternity. 

** And nothing but the conflagration of the last day can 
exceed the awful and appalling scene which must have been 
exhibited, when the inhabitants of the old world, unaffect- 
ed by all the solemn warnings of God, continued to eat and 
drink, and marry, and give in marriage ; and knew not 
until the flood came and took them all away. 

" The inhabitants of that once delightful glen, which I 
have just described, also had had warning from a divine 
messenger. There had been often read to them, from the 
sacred volume, this admonition : Be ye also ready ; for in 
such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man comet h. 
It was indeed an hour in which all apprehensions were laid 
asleep. It was the solemn hour of midnight. The scenes 
of nature lay wrapped in silence and repose through the 
vale of Beman Hollow. No sounds were heard but the 
rough and hoarse waters of the swollen stream. Thick 
and impenetrable darkness was spread over the entire glen. 
The clouds were collecting on the mountains above, in 
dense and fearful masses. Soon the rains descended, ana 



204 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The devastation Touching facts. 

the floods came. The dams, up to the very source of the 
stream, one after another, gave way ; and mills and manu- 
factories fell before the mighty rush of waters. The swol- 
len river, acquiring increased momentum as it advanced, 
swept every thing before it. The inhabitants of Beman 
Hollow, although all unconscious of their danger until it 
burst upon them, did not escape. Houses and barns, and 
sleeping families were carried away, and involved in the 
general destruction. 

" I arrived at this scene of devastation the day succeed- 
ing this general catastrophe. A more affecting scene I 
have seldom witnessed. A daughter of Mr. Wilson, the 
head of one of the families that had been swept away, 
having been absent that awful night, had just reached the 
spot, and was looking towards the place where, the day 
before, had stood her father's dwelling, and her own sweet 
home. 

" Who can conceive her agony of feeling, as she stood 
with clenched hands, pallid cheek, and trembling frame, 
and, with a countenance upon which was depicted almost 
frantic emotion, turned first this way and then that, asking 
again and again, Where are they ? My dear, dear mother, 
where is she? 

" Alas ! we could only weep, and point to the scene of 
ruin before us. 

" There are some touching facts connected with the de- 
struction of the Wilson family, worthy of a more detailed 
and particular description. They were not apprehensive of 
any evil until it was too late to escape. Upon the first 
intimation of danger, the whole family rose and hastily 
dressed themselves. But, before they could well do this, 
they perceived that their dwelling was rocking upon its 
foundation. Soon the chimney fell in, and the house 
actually floated upon the water. Mr. Wilson and his eld- 
est son rushed to the door, plunged into the stream, and 
succeeded in reaching an elevated point of land which was 
still above the water. 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 205 



Fruitless efforts of the father to rescue his perishing chili 

" They had scarcely placed their feet upon the solid 
earth, when they heard a tremendous crash. Looking 
back, they could faintly discover, through the thick mists 
of night, that their dwelling had, by the violence of the 
water, been riven in twain, and that it now formed two 
separate wrecks. From each of these floating wrecks, 
they could distinctly hear the cries and shrieks of terror 
and despair. 

" At this moment, the immense quantity of timber that 
had been borne down, became so entangled in one mass, as 
to occasion a temporary obstruction below. The course 
of the waters was checked, and one part of Mr. Wilson's 
house drifted near the point where he stood. Upon this he 
discovered his daughter. She was calling to him for help 
in tones the most piteous and heartrending. 

" Procuring a rope, he again plunged into the flood, and 
swam to the wreck upon which his daughter was floating. 
There, amid the howlings of the storm, and the roar of 
the waters, he lifted up his voice again and again, and bid 
his child seize the rope which he threw out to her. But, 
either deafened by the surrounding tumults, she heard him 
not, or paralyzed with fear, she found herself incapable of 
making any effort to extricate herself from this perilous 
situation. While the agonized father was making these 
fruitless efforts to rescue his perishing child, the obstruction 
below suddenly gave way, and all were swept down by the 
resistless waters. 

"It was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. Wilson 
again reached the land ; and it was just in time to hear a 
confused shriek, as the fractured timber and crushed bodies 
of his wife and children were hurried down the precipitous 
current. His eye could not follow them ; for over their 
course hung thick and terrible darkness. His imagination 
was left to picture the worst. 

"At this very moment, in another part of the valley, 
was exhibited another scene no less awful and melancholy. 
In i retired, but somewhat exposed spot, stood the humble 
18 



206 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The fearful catastrophe. 

dwelling of Nathan Stewart. Enfeebled by age, and help 
less through the entire loss of his sight, he was but ill-pre* 
pared to weathe; the perils of that night. Hearing the 
roar of the contending elements without, he called up his 
family, that they might, if possible, escape the destruction 
which his fears too truly foreboded was at hand. But it 
was too late. Their dwelling already stood in the midst 
of a sea. 

" In this hour, when made to feel in so awful a manner 
the impotence of human strength, they betook themselves 
to that God who ruleth on high, and is mightier than the 
angry flood, or the horribly raging deep. The mother 
called around her her seven children, and read from the 
word of God, and then committed herself and her family 
to the Most High in an act of solemn prayer. 

" One of their neighbours, a Mr. Eldridge, knowing their 
defenceless situation, and prompted by the kindest feelings, 
constructed a raft, and having manned it with himself and 
son, succeeded in reaching Mr. Stewart's house in safety. 
His object was to remove the family upon the raft ; but he 
had scarcely reached their dwelling before he and they 
were all swept away by the resistless waters. Mr. Eldridge 
ultimately escaped with his life ; but his son accompanied 
the Stewart family in their voyage to eternity. 

" When the morning dawned, the whole valley wore the 
most gloomy and desolate aspect. One wide scene of 
water and devastation stretched before the astonished eye. 
Here and there clung a few individuals to the branches of 
trees, almost senseless through terror and exhaustion. 
Among the number was a lad of ten or twelve years old, 
lae only survivor, I believe, in the Stewart family. The 
account that he gave of the occurrences of the preceding 
night was brief and simple. He was unconscious of most 
that had past. The last thing he remembered was, that 
his mother took down the Bible and read a chapter. She 
kneeled down with another book before her, and began to 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 20? 

The Prayer Book. Episcopalians. 



pray, and then the house began to reel and move. As t« 
what passed after this he had no distinct recollection. 

" Near the spot, drifted to the shore," continued our nar- 
rator, " I found this Prayer Book," taking a dingy-look- 
ing, water-soaked volume from his pocket, — " and I have 
no doubt this is the very book which Mrs. Stewart had be- 
fore her when kneeling, as just described, to offer up her 
last prayer. I shall long keep this, as a sacred memento 
of the awful occurrences that have rendered memorable 
Beman Hollow." 

This incidental mention of the Prayer Book led to a 
conversation, which in its progress disclosed the somewhat 
singular fact that the whole company were members of the 
Episcopal church. I presume the Christian reader, after 
having been long absent from his home, as he has chanced 
to discover in the stage-coach, the packet-boat, or the pub- 
lic inn, a professed follower of Christ, has felt his heart 
immediately drawn towards him in fraternal affection : 
yea, from that moment has felt as though he had at least 
one friend near him. If from farther conversation he has 
learned, that he was attached to the same communion with 
himself, he has felt that he was in the society of one who 
had kindred sympathies with him in matters of the highest 
interest. All reserve is thrown off, and heart meets heart 
in sweet and delightful fellowship. 

It was very much so with the company on the present 
occasion. Indeed, they soon became as communicative and 
affable, as they had previously been reserved and taciturn. 
Perhaps Episcopalians are more inclined to talk about their 
church than most Christians. Whether this is wise, I will 
not now stay to inquire. There are two reasons that may 
be assigned for the fact. 

First, they attach more importance to the form of the 
early organization of the church, than most other denomi- 
nations. They believe that Christ gave a definite form to 
the church, and they feel bound to adhere strictly to that. 

And, Secondly, being often assailed in relation to the 



208 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Surprise and pleasure. 



peculiarities of their communion, they have been constrain 
ed to study their own organization thoroughly, and make 
themselves very familiar with the reason of every thing 
connected with their church. 

It was not wonderful, therefore, that meeting under the 
circumstances that these strangers did, under the surprise 
and pleasure of finding themselves all attached to this com- 
munion, they should have poured out their hearts very freely 
on a variety of topics connected with the interests of the 
Episcopal church. 

A sketch of the remarks offered by three of these indi- 
viduals will give an idea of the lively and animated discus- 
sion that took place, and may furnish several valuable hints 
for reflection. 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 20£ 

Christian union. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE FORCE OF PREJUDICE. 

How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in 
unity. From the 133 J Psalm. 

With all that may be said in reference to the advantages 
resulting from the division of the Christian church into 
sects and denominations, we cannot but think that it is 
contrary to the will of Christ, and productive of immense 
evils. It is well known that, in consequence of this di- 
vision, these various denominations do in fact often look 
upon each other with suspicion and jealousy, and regard 
each other as rivals and enemies. It is this which " sup- 
plies infidels with their most plausible topics of invective, 
which hardens the conscience of the irreligious, weakens 
the hands of the good, impedes the efficacy of prayer, and 
is probably the principal obstruction to that ample effusion 
of the Spirit, which is essential to the renovation of the 
world."* 

While we must mourn over this state of things in the Chris- 
tian church, we still feel bound to subscribe entirely to the 
remark, " That every attempt to reconcile differences among 
professing Christians, which involves the relinquishment 
of truth, or a compromise with important corruption either 
in doctrine or worship, or giving countenance to what is 
deemed injurious departure from what Christ has com- 
manded, is, undoubtedly, criminal and mischievous. t 

We are, however, inclined to think that much of tli€ 

* Robert Hall's Works, vol. i. p. 289. 
j- Biblical Repertory, vol. viii. p. 15. 
18* 



210 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The effect of a spirit of bitterness among Christians. 



acerbity of feeling, which has hitherto prevailed among 
evangelical Christians of different denominations, has been 
owing to their ignorance of each other. The more know- 
ledge that real Christians have of each other, the more 
they will be drawn towards each other by the attractive 
power of sympathy and Christian love. 

A variety of causes concurred to cast a shade over the 
Episcopal church, in its first establishment in this country. 
When I reflect upon the low state of piety in many of its 
members at that period, the darkened and imperfect views 
of the gospel which many of its ministers evinced, and the 
spirit of intolerance which the mother church of England 
manifested towards the Puritans, I do not wonder that the 
descendants of the Puritans felt and acted towards the 
Episcopal church as they did. And yet it is abundantly 
evident, that the Episcopal church has had heaped on her 
a prodigious amount of calumny, and that her noblest en- 
ergies have been crippled by unfounded prejudices, which 
have girded her around like a beleaguring army, and pur- 
sued her with almost a spirit of relentless extermination. 
Those days of error and misconception we trust are fast 
passing away. It would be well if Christians more fre- 
quently would reflect upon the evil effects that result from 
manifesting a spirit of bitterness towards each other, and 
would adopt the sentiment contained in the lines which 
Milton represents Adam as addressing to Eve, after their 
mutual accusations and upbraidings. 

" But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 
Each other, blamed enough elsewhere ; but strive 
In offices of love, how we may lighten 
Each other's burden in our share of wo." 

And perhaps the discussion that took place on the occa- 
sion of the meeting of these travellers, may tend to show 
the folly and the sin of cherishing feelings of unkindness 
and opposition towards those whom Christ loves, and with 
whom we shall dwell together in life everlasting. 



THE MEETING OF THE TRA?E;.£ERS. 2 . 



Narrative of Miss Truman. 



In the course of the conversation referred to at the close 
cf the last chapter, the remark had been dropped that nr li- 
bers were deterred from frequenting the worshipping a* 
^cmblies of the Episcopal church, under the mistaken ira 
pression that its liturgical services were a frigi 1 mummery 
of words, or a sort of pantomime, greatly resembling the 
Romish masses, and utterly destitute of the spirit and 
warmth of true devotion. This remark called forth a spi- 
rited reply from Miss Truman, who, while scarce aware 
of it, gave a sketch of her own personal history. 

It must be borne in mind that Miss Truman, in these 
remarks, spoke with all the warmth of one who had en- 
tered the Episcopal church from a deep conviction that it 
was her duty to do so ; and who, in following what she 
supposed to be her duty, had to wade through a sea of dif- 
ficulties, and encounter a host of almost indomitable resist- 
ances. 

Young, ardent, and sanguine in her temperament, her 
eye kindled with animation, and the words flowed with an 
uncommon grace and fluency from her lips. The r«mark 
just adverted to had touched a sensitive chord in her bo- 
som. And she very promptly said, — 

" Such a view is utterly at war with facts and expe- 
rience. I might refer to my own case for an ample refuta- 
tion of such an idea. 

" I was born amid the rough hills and cragged moun- 
tains of New Hampshire, and drew my natal breath in a 
district of country where the Episcopal church was never 
mentioned but with censure and denunciation. My pa- 
rents were the descendants of Puritans ; and they cherished 
all the bitterness and strong antipathies to the church of 
England, as the Episcopal church was called, which their 
ancestors brought with them, when, with wounded spirits 
and exasperated feeling, they bade an eternal adieu to the 
land that gave them birth. 

" As there was no Episcopal church in my native town, 
it was but seldom tH*t the distinctive views and oeculiari 



212 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Injurious impressions on the minds of the young. 

lies of this denomination were made the subject of conver- 
sation. At times, however, something would occur to 
introduce the mention of the church of England, and at 
such times the remarks offered were calculated to give the 
impression that it was a church utterly destitute of piety ; 
embracing within its communion every species of profligate 
and abandoned men, and in its worship and doctrines not 
a whit behind the idolatrous church of Rome. 

" Was it to be wondered at, that I, then a child, and 
hearing these statements from the lips of those I tenderly 
loved, received them as undoubted truths? And here I 
cannot but remark, that I do think it most unwarrantable 
conduct in parents, to speak in terms of censure and con- 
demnation, in the presence of children, of religious commu- 
nions of which they are totally ignorant. How many 
young minds have been thus poisoned, perverted, and for 
ever blinded to the perception of truth ! And I might also 
add, still more reprehensible is the habit, in which some 
very good people indulge themselves, of ridiculing and 
mimicking the tone, voice, and singular expressions of 
weak or fanatical teachers. I cannot but think, that such 
attempts at ridicule are always injurious to personal piety, 
And often prejudice young minds against all religion. And 
ought not parents, and those to whom the care of youth is 
committed, to remember that there is an awful responsi- 
bility in relation to this matter ? the eternal Judge himself 
having thus premonished us, By thy words thou shalt be 
justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned. 

" My parents, I am fully persuaded, acted in this matter 
under the honest belief, that all, and more than they 
affirmed of the Episcopal church, was literally true. But 
they should have remembered, that all the knowledge they 
possessed en this subject was traditionary, — a species of in- 
formation very much to be distrusted when connected with 
the excited feelings and passions of men. 

" About the time I had attained the sixteenth year of mv 
age, my father concluded to emigrate to the state of Vc*-* 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS 213 

Emigration. New residence. 

York. After a long and somewhat tedious journey, we at 
length stopped at one of those little villages which have 
sprung up, as it were by enchantment, on the banks of the 
great Western Canal ; and here, after some deliberation, 
my parents concluded to take up their residence. The 
scene around m? was new, and I should have often pined 
for the sweet retirement and invigorating air of my native 
hills, had I not been in the bosom of my own family, en- 
joying the society of affectionate parents, whose presence 
renders any spot dear and interesting. 

" I verily believe the hand of God was in this matter, 
and to the latest period of my life, I shall remember 
with deep gratitude that act of divine providence which 

located us in the village of L . In this village there 

;vere a Methodist and a Congregational church. These 
vere the only religious denominations known as distinct 
odies there. 

" Two years had now elapsed since we first took up our 

ibode in the village of L . We had begun to acquire 

- home-like feeling, to take an interest in the place, and 
iisten with attention to every little item of intelligence con- 
nected with its growth and prosperity. Its moral and reli- 
gious institutions, as they rose or declined, were regarded 
with deep interest, and made the subject of frequent con- 
versation. 

"It was not to be expected that an event of so exciting 
a character, as that of the celebrating of worship accord- 
ing to the forms and usages of the Episcopal church, for 
the first time in our village, should pass unnoticed, or fail 
to furnish a subject for abundant remark in every family 
cirele. It certainly did not in ours. 

"It was one Saturday morning, just after we had taken 
our seats around the breakfast table, that my father re- 
marked, 

" * I understand we are to have Episcopal preaching here 
next Sabbath.' 

" I perceived, when my father first began to speak, th«l 



214 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The Episcopal church, how viewed. 



there was a sort of knitting of the brow, and sternness of 
expression, which sometimes clouded his features when 
any thing greatly displeased him. 

** ' Episcopal preaching !' reiterated my mother, who 
was truly a pious woman, but ardent in her feelings, and 
very fixed in her prejudices. ' Episcopal preaching ! are 
there any of that corrupt people among us ?' 

" ' A few, I believe,' answered my father. 

" ' Well,' said my mother, ' I hope those who have 
been better taught, will not, by their attendance, give sanc- 
tion or encouragement to the propagation of doctrines, 
which cannot fail to weaken the foundation of morals, and 
cause men to feel easy and secure in their sins. At all 
events, I hope that my children will have so much regard 
to the feelings of their parents as not to put themselves in 
the way of error and delusion, remembering the monitory 
precept of the wise man — Enter not in the path of the 
wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it ; 
pass not by it. Turn from it, and pass away. 1 

" These remarks suddenly checked a train of thought 
that I was at the moment indulging. At the first mention 
of the foregoing intelligence, I felt a sort of undefinable 
curiosity come over me to go and hear this Episcopal 
preacher. But this last remark of my mother put to flight 
every thought of the kind. For I loved her too well to 
think of acting so directly contrary to her wishes merely 
to gratify an idle curiosity. I therefore dismissed the sub- 
ject from my mind, and it did not again occur to me until 
some weeks after, when I casually heard, from an acquaint- 
ance of ours, that the Rev. Mr. D , the Episcopal 

minister, preached with great acceptance, and gave such 
universal satisfaction, that he had been strongly solicited to 
repeat his visit ; and that there was some prospect that he 
would hereafter devote a certain portion of his time to our 
village, as he was acting in the capacity of a missionary. 

"I suppose that full three months passed away befort 
any thing- further occurred to recall this subjec to my mind. 



THE MEETING OF THE iHAVELLERS. llf 

The occurrence of a Sunday moening. Mode of worship. 

One Sunday morning, having dressed myself at an early 
iwur for church, 1 went out, and strolled leisurely along 
towards the place where I usually attended public worship. 
It was a lovely summer's morning ; and I was allured by 
the freshness and fragrance exhaled from the green beaute- 
ous earth, and diffused through the bland *"d balmy air, to 
prolong my walk, and take the most circuitous course to 
the church. Indulging in a sort of delightful revery, and 
almost unconscious whither I was going, ere I was aware 
of it, I found myself in the immediate vicinity of the place 
where the Episcopal missionary celebrated divine service. 
It was a school room which would contain from one hun- 
dred and fifty to two hundred persons. The congregation 
were now assembling, and yielding to the impulse of the 
moment, I turned and went in with others. So sudden 
was this determination formed, I hardly knew what I had 
done, until I found myself seated in the mid't of ths 
assembled worshippers. I then regretted extremely this 
rash step. I remembered the words my mother had 
repeated — Avoid it ; pass not by it. Turn from it, and 
pass away. I was almost tempted to get up and leave the 
house, but feared I should attract attention by so singular a 
course of conduct ; for I perceived that many of my ac- 
quaintance were in the congregation, and several families 
of the highest respectability. I confess 1 felt wretched, 
and sat uneasy and impatient until the service commenced. 
" At length the missionary entered the room. His ap- 
pearance was grave and devout ; but my mind was preoc- 
cupied with prejudice, and I sat waiting in expectation of 
witnessing ceremonies of worship scarcely less profane or 
offensive to God, than the unhallowed rites performed in 
pagan temples. Conceive then my surprise, conceive my 
astonishment, when, at the commencement of the service, 
instead of any thing light or indecorous, the sublime and 
solemn words fell upon my ear, The Lord is in his holy 
temple, let all the earth keep silence before him. And at 
the sound of these words, the whole congregation rose, and 



216 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Impressions made by the use of the church service. 



stood ready to give the most profound and respectful atten- 
tion to what should follow. I involuntarily rose with them, 
and tl roughout the whole service found myself almost un- 
consciously observing the same attitudes with the worship- 
pers, so natural and accordant with propriety are all those 
various postures the Prayer Book directs us to assume 
during the solemn service it prescribes. 

" As the service advanced, my mind was drawn into a 
most serious and thoughtful frame. The deepest solemnity 
pervaded the whole assembly. It seemed as if the Eternal 
Spirit hovered over the spot : and the thought was continu- 
ally in my mind, Surely this is none other than the house 
of God J 

u I never before experienced similar sensations, or had 
such solemn and affecting views. The thought occurred 
to me — God is indeed here ! But, O ! how unworthy am 
1 to stand in His awful presence ! My own past miscon- 
duct and numberless transgressions now started up before 
my mind, and seemed ready, as so many witnesses, to give 
in their testimony against me. The divine law struck me 
in an entire new light. It now seemed so pure, and elevated, 
and holy, that I did not dare to compare a single act of my 
life with it. I plainly perceived that I was guilty, and 
should be condemned. I felt that I could in sincerity join 
with the surrounding worshippers in their address to the 
throne of grace, 

" O God, the Father of heaven, have mercy upon us, 
miser able sinners. 

" This humble and penitential language was exactly 
suited to the state of my feelings : for I now felt, for the 
first time, that I was a sinner. I always supposed and 
acknowledged that I was a sinner, but I never understood 
the meaning of that word until now. So much was I 
affected by the thoughts of my own condition, and the 
solemnity of the service, that when the minister came to 
that part of the litany, where the bleeding Lamb of God is 
twice invoked for peace and mercy, I could no longer 






THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 21? 

The first sermon heard. Great salvation. 

restrain my feelings, but had to give vent to them fn a flood 
of tears. There is something inimitably tender and touch- 
ing in that appeal to the Second Person in the Trinity, 

"0 Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the 
world, have mercy upon us. 

" All that I saw and heard throughout the whole service, 
seemed calculated to deepen my serious impressions, i 
verily believe that the Spirit of the living God was then 
touching my heart, and opening my eyes through the 
solemn services of the liturgy. 

" My mind had now become prepared to attend to a 
preached gospel ; and this I must say was ihefrst sermon 
I ever heard. Whether it was because my mind had re- 
ceived new light, or the truths of the gospel were presented 
in a different manner before me, one thing is certain, reli- 
gion appeared quite another thing from what I had been in 
the habit of contemplating it. The minister made no 
attempt to shine, or set himself off, but appeared totally 
absorbed in his subject. He spoke with a pathos and feel- 
ing which went to the heart. His language was so plain, 
his style so perspicuous, his feelings so fervid, and his man- 
ner so earnest and vehement, that it was impossible not to 
listen and understand. His text was, — How shall we es- 
cape if we neglect so great scdvation ? He depicted our 
lost estate without a Saviour, the greatness of the salvation 
purchased by the precious blood of Christ, and the tremen- 
dous guilt incurred by neglecting that salvation, in colours 
that seemed to exhibit these truths in an entire new light. 

" I went home oppressed with feelings of wretchedness 
and misery. I intimated to no one where I had been, 01 
what I had seen and heard. My mother was in feeble 
health, and seldom able to go out to church. Instead of 
occupying a place in the family pew, I usually sat with the 
choir of singers in the gallery, as is customary in the coun- 
try with those who have good voices. My absence from 
the sanctuary where I had been accustomed to worship, 
therefore, was not observed. After this occurrence I uni- 
19 



218 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Seriousness. Prayer meeting. The liturgy. 

! irmly attended worship with the Episcopal congregation, 
-vlien their minister officiated, which was only once in two 
weeks, i felt my heart constantly drawn to that humble 
school-room, where I first received those convictions of sin 
and desires after God, which were bow continually present 
with me. For there alone did I hear a language which I 
coul 1 understand. 

•' My seriousness and new interest in divine things did 
not escape the notice of my acquaintance, although I neve. 
*poke upon the subject. Several religious people took 
occasion to converse with me in reference to the concerns 
of my soul, and, I believe, left me under the impression 
that my ! eart had been touched by the softening influence 
of divine grace. Shortly after this, I was invited to spend 

an evening at Mr. R 's, this family having previously 

shown in ich interest in my spiritual welfare. I there met 
a number of religious people, and the evening was princi- 
pally occupied in social prayer. My mind was peculiarly 
depressed. I had been all that day thinking of my exceed- 
ing sinfulness, and the certainty that destruction would 
orertake me ; for I saw no way of escape. The meeting 
was truly a solemn one. When the circumstances of my 
seriousnt ss came to be known, it was generally supposed 
that it wi'.s particularly connected with this prayer meeting. 
Little did they understand the instrument which God had 
employed in awakening my soul to the importance of eter- 
nal things. Little did they imagine that it was the prayers 
of that liturgy, which they deemed utterly destitute of 
devotion, njid the spirit of genuine piety. 

"A few Sundays after this, as I sat listening to the 
Episcopal missionary, my eye accidentally fell upon a 
countenance, the sight of which sent a momentary dizzi- 
ness through my brain, and made my whole frame shake 
with trembling. It was the countenance of my dear, my 
venerated father ! What could have brought him to this 
assembly? Was he aware that I was present? These 
thoughts instantly rushed into my mind. 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 216 



The father and daughter mutually surprised. 



" I looked steadfastly towards him. His eye seemed 
chained to the speaker ; and I could see from the workings 
of his face, that deep feeling had been aroused in his bo- 
som. As I continued to look, the big tear rolled down 
his cheek. It had been called forth by the solemn appeal 
from the lips of the preacher. 

" I felt interested in the sermon ; but I could not keep 
my eyes from my father. At length his eyes met mine, 
and the look of recognition which was exchanged showed 
that it was a most unexpected meeting to us both. I went 
home, fully determined to have no further concealments, 
but to apprize my parents immediately of the course upon 
which I had resolved. 

" I expected that my father, as soon as I reached home, 
would speak to me on the subject of wandering from my 
own church. But I did not meet him till tea-time, and then 
he was unusually taciturn. My resolution, however, was 
taken. I wished to do my duty, and I felt that deception, 
under any circumstances, was wrong. 

" I therefore remarked,— 

" ' Father, you saw me at the Episcopal church ; I hope 
you do not disapprove of my conduct.' 

" My father remained silent, and I instantly perceived 
that he was too much agitated to reply. This remark, 
however, fell upon my poor mother's ear like an unex- 
pected peal of thunder. She looked upon departure from 
the doctrine and church in which she had been educated, 
as apostasy from Christ. With agitated voice, and in 
tones of disapprobation and surprise, she therefore hastily 
inquired, — 

" ' You have not both, I trust, wandered so far from the 
path of duty as to leave the sanctuary of the Lord, on the 
holy Sabbath, and go into an assembly of Episcopal wor- 
shippers V 

" * We were both, this afternoon, my dear mother,' 1 
replied, ' in the Episcopal congregation ; and, I trust, with 
profit to our souls.' 



1*0 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The prejudices of Mrs. Truman. 



" ' Cornelia !' exclaimed my mother with increased agi* 
tation, * I had hoped for a more dutiful course of conduct 
from you. And what gives me the greatest pain is, thai 
you expect to derive any spiritual advantage from visits to 
those deluded assemblies. Quickly, my child, will all 
your seriousness vanish, if you can no longer endure 
sound doctrine, but with itching ears and idle curiosity 
you thus heap to yourself teachers, who have never been 
taught of God.' 

" ' My much-loved mother,' said I, with a heart ready 
*o burst with feeling, 'if I ever had any seriousness, it was 
awakened in that assembly which you warn me to avoid : 
and if I ever have been brought to view myself aright, it 
has been through the instructions of that minister whom 
you denounce. Do not judge so harshly.' 

" ' Poor deluded girl !' uttered my mother. 

44 Here my father interposed, and said, — 

44 ' My dear, you know the answer to the inquiry, Can 
any thing good come out of Nazareth? was, Come and 
see. I have to-day acted upon this principle ; and I feel 
bound to say, that it is my firm belief that the Episcopal 
minister preaches the truth of God.' 

44 ' Well,' said my mother, * what is their preaching as 
long as th^y have no other worship than a cold, heartless 
form of prayer ?' 

" ' Have you ever heard those prayers?' said I. 

" * No ; but I have been told what they are, and that is 
enough,' said my mother. 

" Here our conversation was broken off by the call of a 
friend. The next day I received a visit from the Episco- 
pal missionary, the Rev. Mr. D . This was quite 

unexpected. But he remarked, that, having observed me 
constantly at church, he had called to speak to me in rela- 
tion to the things that concerned my everlasting peace, as 
he did upon all whom he saw regular attendants upon his 
ministry. 

44 1 thanked him for his kindness, and made some in- 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 221 

The Prayer Book. 

quiries in relation to the Prayer Book. He very readily, 
and in the most kind and condescending manner, gave mc 
the information I requested, and concluded his remarks 
upon the subject by begging me to accept a copy of the 
Prayer Book. 

"And here I cannot but bear my testimony to the use- 
fulness and unquestionable charity of those benevolent 
institutions, formed for the purpose of supplying missiona- 
ries with Bibles and Prayer Books, to distribute through 
the congregations where they officiate. It is impossible 
to estimate or compute the amount of good thus a<cnm- 
plished. Did those engaged in this benevolent object, 
know how many broken hearts their charity biniis up — 
how many weak and wavering minds it confirms in the 
faith — how many death-beds it smooths, and how many 
departing spirits it fits for glory, their hands would never 
be weary, their hearts would never faint in this good work. 

"The Prayer Book, offered me by Mr. D , I mos* 

cheerfully received. I had long been desirous of having 
one in my possession ; for I expected to derive rVom the 
perusal of this book much light and instruction in relation 
to several subjects which were still enveloped in mist and 

darkness. Some inquiries that I made gave Mr. D 

a clue to my difficulties. In the most kind and obliging 
manner, he directed my attention to numerous passages 
of Scripture, which shed much illumination upon my 
benighted mind. The way of salvation was opened up 
before me in a new and striking light. 

" As soon as Mr. D left, I went to my chamber, 

and there, through divine grace, was enabled to cast my 
naked soul upon the mercies of God in Christ. I now, for 
the first time, felt peace and joy in btlieving. I could 
now see how the mercy of God could be extended even to 
me, and the discovery filled me with joy unspeakable and 
full of glory. 

" Having dedicated myself anew to God, I sat down to 
examine my precious treasure — my Prayer Book. Not 

19* 



222 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



Salvation in and through Christ. 



to enlarge upon the satisfaction I derived from its perusal, 
I will barely advert to one discovery I made in its every 
page. I had just heard, from the lips of him whom Pro- 
vidence seemed to have sent me as a spiritual guide, that ] 
must look for salvation only in and through Christ; that I 
must come to him as a lost and ruined sinner, and cast 
myself entirely upon his mediation and mercy. No one 
could feel more deeply than 1 did the need of a mediator. 
Conscious of my own meanness, vileness, and impurity, I 
could not conceive how it was possible for me, of myself 
alone, to have any access to the all-holy, all-glorious, and 
supreme Governor of the universe. It appeared to me 
that he was too high and too pure, and I too low and pol 
luted for such a converse. I most painfully felt the need 
of one through whom I could communicate with God, and 
by whose intercession I could hope that my poor petitions 
would be accepted. I had just been pointed to such a 
Mediator — Jesus Christ the righteous. And now I found 
him and his mediatorial character recognised in every peti- 
tion and Collect, and forming the very groundwork of the 
Prayer Book. 

" The occurrences to which I have previously adverted 
created much uneasiness, and, I may say, unhappiness, in 
our family circle for a few days. My father had been 
affecied by the services of the liturgy in a manner very 
similai to myself. Filled with alarm on account of the 
sinfulness of his heart and life, to the perception of which 
he had now become painfully awakened, he was but ill 
prepared to allay the anxiety and apprehensions of my 
worthy mother, who was exceedingly distressed at the 
thought of her family's apostatizing from the truth. She 
was at length, however, through my father's importunity, 
brought to consent to attend the Episcopal church, and see 
and hear for herself. 

44 During the following week, she said nothing from 
which I could learn how her mind was affected by what 
she had witmessed. Before the next Sunday, however 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. %%'* 



The indefatigable missionary. The artificial pond. The little ark. 

the Rev. Mr. D gave us another call. This indefati- 
gable missionary, truly in earnest in his work, ;nd «*U 
aware that he could do as much, if not more, in the family 
circle than in the pulpit, was ever prompt in seizing every 
opportunity to deepen serious impressions and dissipate 
prejudice by the most familiar and friendly conversation. 

" It so happened that all our family were now present ; 

and Mr. D 's manners were so kind, gentlemanly, and 

conciliating, that we were immediately constrained to feel 
that he was our friend. By a most happy faculty which 
he possessed, the conversation, almost before we were con- 
scious of it, had assumed a religious character ; and the 

remarks of Mr. D now became deeply interesting from 

the simplicity and honest-hearted piety that characterized 
them. 

" It was summer, and the parlour in which we were sit- 
ting opened immediately into a large garden in the rear of 
the house. In one part of this garden had been formed an 
artificial pond. This little expanse of water not only added 
beauty to the rural scene in which it was imbosomed, but 
afforded a theatre for sport and amusement to my brothers 
They had constructed a little vessel, formed upon the mo- 
del of Noah's ark, and which they denominated the Ark. 

" Mr. D had taken a seat by the window which 

overlooked this whole seene, and made several inquiries in 
relation to the arrangements in the garden. 

" ' You are indeed delightfully situated,' he remarked 
* You have so many sweet instructers around you ! These 
plants, and flowers, and trees, and shrubs, and birds tha 
sing among their branches, are telling of God and his good 
ness all the day long. I love the scenes of nature, because 
I see so much of God in them. And even your childrer 
have selected for their sport an object of striking mora, 
significancy. The little ark that floats upon the crysta. 
bosom of that water, not only reminds you of that disas- 
trous event which ingulfed this whole earth in one wide 
and watery grave, but also of a worse and more wastefu 



224 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Religious impressions on Mr. Truman's mind. 

flood — a flood of guilt, which has rolled its polluting tide 
over all the generations of men, and swallowed them up in 
its deep and absorbing bosom. And as none of the inha- 
bitants of the old world escaped, except those who entered 
the ark — so none will now escape, except those who are 
in Christ. He is the only ark of safety to which we can 
flee. And, O ! is it not madness in us, when he has so 
graciously provided a way for our escape — when he so 
kindly opens the door and bids us enter — is it not madness 
in us to linger and loiter until the flood comes and takes us 
all away V 

" My father was much affected by these remarks. He 

observed to Mr. D that he feared that he had, through 

life, been deaf to the monitory voices around him. * It has 
been my endeavour,' continued he, « to promote the inte- 
rests of religion, and lead an incorrupt life. But I now 
begin to think that I have never known myself. I was 
educated with strong prejudices against the Episcopal 
church. I always viewed it as a church the lowest of all 
others in piety. But it has pleased God to touch my heart 
under your ministry, and to show me that I am under con 
demnation and death.' 

" * This,' said Mr. D , ' is what the church and her 

faithful ministers aim at. We do not preach to gain prose- 
lytes. We are not ambitious to draw multitudes into our 
church, merely to boast of our numbers. Our great object, 
that for which we most earnestly labour, is to save souls ; 
to lead men to repentance and reformation of life. 

" * It is true we believe, and conscientiously believe, that 
our church is the church which Christ and his apostles 
founded. We, therefore, feel it our duty to adhere to this 
church. We love it, because it is the church of Christ ; 
and because, being established by him, we believe it em- 
races in its operation and ordinances the most efficient 
moral enginery to rescue sinners from death, and train them 
for the society and enjoyments of heaven. Its worship, 
doctrines, and sacraments are all designed, and eminently 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 225 



Change of heart fully recognised in the liturgy. 



calculated, to lead men to the attainment of that holiness 
without which no man shall see the Lord. 1 

" 4 Do you consider,' inquired my mother, with some 
spirit, as though she suspected that all this was a nice- 
wrought veil to conceal a hollow and rotten system of 
doctrine ; * do you consider a change of heart necessary to 
entitle one to the character of a genuine Christian V 

" ' Most assuredly I do, madam,' said he, ' and I should 
suppose that you would have inferred this from the obser- 
vations that I have already made.' 

" * Then you are different from most Episcopalians,' 
replied my mother. 

" * I am different from them in no other respect than 
that I am the most unworthy of all the members of that 
communion,' replied Mr. D . 

" ' But surely,' said my mother, * Episcopalians do not 
generally believe in a change of heart?' 

" * You would have hardly ventured this remark,' an- 
swered Mr. D , ' had you ever examined our Prayer 

Book. To know what Episcopalians believe, you must go 
to the standard writings which contain their belief. These 
writings are the Articles, the Homilies, and the Prayer 
Book. In all these you will find the necessity of this 
great moral change continually recognised, and constantly 
insisted upon. In numerous prayers the petition is put up 
to Almighty God, that we, being regenerate and made his 
children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by 
his Holy Spirit — that he would grant us the true circum- 
cision of the Spirit — that he would create and make in us 
new and contrite hearts — and that he would give us that 
peace which the world cannot give. In all these writings, 
to which I have referred, you will find most clearly and 
explicitly stated the fact that mankind are by nature cor- 
rupt — that their hearts must be changed and purified by the 
Holy Ghost, and that the only hope of salvation for sinners 
is in the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ.' 

" * But,' replied my mother, ■ I have often been told that 



226 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Baptismal regeneration. 



your Church believed in baptismal regeneration, and con- 
sidered no other change necessary except that which occurs 
in the administration of the sacrament of baptism.' 

" ' The Episcopal church in reference to this matter is 

greatly misunderstood,' said Mr. D . * 1 myself could 

wish some other term were substituted in the place of re- 
generate, as used in the baptismal service, not because any 
erroneous doctrine is now taught — but because the true 
doctrine of the church is often misapprehended. No adult 
certainly ought to come to baptism till he is born of the 
Spirit ; and being born in that ordinance of water, he may, 
according to the explanation of oui Saviour, (John iii. 5,) be 
said to be regenerate, or born again. In relation to infants, 
this sacrament admits them into the church, and brings 
them into covenant with God, and represents the new 
birth. What spiritual influence is exerted upon them, we 
know not. They are born of water — and if they are 
offered in faith, and brought up in the nurture and admoni- 
tion of the Lord, we believe it is one part of God's cove- 
nant promise that they shall be born of the Spirit. We 
speak, therefore, in the language of faith, and thank God 
as though it were already done. But at the same time our 
ministers invariably address baptized persons in the lan- 
guage of Bishop Hall : — If you find your hearts unclean 
— your hands idle and unprofitable — your ways crooked 
and unholy — your corruptions alive and lively, never pre- 
tend to any renewing. You are the old men still; and 
however ye may go for Christians, yet ye have denied the 
power of Christianity in your lives : and if ye so con- 
tinue, the fire of hell shall have so much the more power 
over you, that it finds the baptismal water upon your 
faces. We hold out no hope to any sinner without repent- 
ance towards God, and faith toivards our Lord Jesus 
Christ:* 

• If the reader desires to know the author's views fully on this sub- 
ject he would refer him to the 7th and 8th chapters of" A Walkabout 
Zion " 4th edition. 



i 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 227 

The practice of unregenerate persons reading the serrice. 



" ' There is one practice,' said my mother, still clinging 
to her early prejudices, and calling up all the strong rea- 
sons upon which they were founded ; * there is one prac- 
tice in your church which I highly disapprove, and to 
which I could never be reconciled. I refer to the practice 
of reading prayers. For in your Church, I see that all 
read, both religious and irreligious ; and are we not told, 
that the prayer of him that turneth away his ear from 
hearing the law, and the sacrifice of the wicked, is an 
abomination to the Lord ?' 

" ' I might silence this objection,' said Mr. D , with 

great good feeling, * by asking you, if you do not also see, 
that in your church all sing who have voices, both reli- 
gious and irreligious ? And is prayer a more solemn act 
of worship than praise ? If the prayer of the wicked be 
an abomination to the Lord, will not his praise be also? 

" ' But I think I can state to you good reasons why all 
who come to the house of God should be encouraged to 
unite in every act of prayer and praise. You certainly 
deem it right and proper that impenitent and unrenewed 
men should read the word of God. Now much the largest 
portion of our service which belongs to the people to read, 
is a part of that word — selections from the book of Psalms. 
If, then, it is proper for men to read the Scriptures at home, 
what impropriety can there be in their reading portions of 
them in the church ? And is it not highly probable that 
when thus read in the presence of God, the solemn truths 
which concern our everlasting peace will be more likely to 
make a deep impression upon our minds than at any other 
time ? And as to the prayers — the church supposes that 
every man who approaches the divine throne in their lan- 
guage, is sincere — that he means what he says. If he does 
not, the sin lies at his own door.' 

" « But do you not,' said my mother, * suppose that 
many join in x hat service in a very thoughtless manner ?' 

" • Very likely,' said Mr. D , ' and this might be 

affirmed of those who approach God in any other mode of 



228 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The ground of attachment to the Episcopal church. 

Worship. But I think there are few modes of worship 
equally calculated to arrest the attention, and fix the wan- 
dering thoughts iu deep solemnity on God. A man who 
was once very much devoted to a life of gayety , but is now an 
exemplary follower of Christ, told me, that he often used 
to come to church with his thoughts full of the world, but 
he never could proceed far in this service, without having 
such a view of divine things as to make the world and all 
its concerns appear as nothing and less than nothing. You 
see, therefore, the service not only excites devotion in the 
mind of the true worshipper, but leads even the thoughtless 
to remember the errand upon which they have come to the 
house of God.' 

" Not to weary your patience," continued Miss Truman, 
as she proceeded in her narrative, " omitting other par- 
ticulars, I will briefly state that this conversation, in con- 
nexion with the previous impressions made in witnessing 
the celebration of divine service, ultimately brought our 
whole family into the Episcopal church. My father be- 
i ime a truly converted man. He sometimes used pleasantly 
to refer to the time when we first met in the Episcopal 
congregation. He has since joined the church triumphant. 
O, how solemn was that moment when I kneeled by the 
side of his dying bed, and received his last parental bless- 
ing i Through life, as well as in his last moments, he gave 
the most satisfactory evidence that he belonged to the fold 
of that Almighty Shepherd who has said, / knoiv my sheep, 
and they follow me. And I give unto them eternal life; 
and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them 
out of my hand. 

** My first attachment to the Episcopal church arose 
from the effect produced upon my mind by its sublime and 
holy worship. But when I came to study and understand 
the subject of the Christian ministry, and the constitution 
of the primitive church, I then discovered a new cause for 
attachment. I was delighted to find a perfect harmony 
subsisting between the church of my attachment and thai 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 229 



The hope desired in death. 



founded by the Saviour himself. And I hope at last to De 
gathered unto my fathers, having the testimony of a good 
conscience, in the communion of this catholic and apostolic 
church — in the confidence of a certain faith — in the com* 
fort of a reasonable, religious, and holy hope — in favour 
with God, and in perfect charity with the world" 



30 



220 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The absorbing topic of conversation. 



CHAPTER IV. 

MRS. JANEWAY. 

44 Behold'st thou yonder, on the crystal sea, 
Beneath the throne of God, an image fair, 
And in its hand a mirror large and bright ? 
'Tis Truth, immutable, eternal Truth, 
In figure emblematical expressed. 
******* 
The Bible holds this mirror's place on earth." 

Pollok. 






Had there been one ol mother communion present, to 
have listened to the animated and thrilling tones of this 
advocate of the Episcopal church, as she poured forth her 
glowing thoughts in the strain described in the last chap- 
ter, though he might perhaps have thought that she had too 
much sectarian feeling, and laid too much stress upon mat- 
ters which are comparatively of minor importance, he still 
would have admired the warmth of her heart, the clearness 
of her views, and the manifest deep spirituality of her mind. 
These remarks of Miss Truman seemed to have imparted a 
brisk circulation to the ideas of all present ; and the Epis- 
copal church became the all-absorbing topic of conversation. 

Among other things, it was noticed that one of the popular 
objections against this church was, that many of its mem- 
bers were mere formalists, destitute of all spirituality, zeal, 
and fervour ; that the religion of Episcopalians was a reli- 
gion rather of the head than of the heart ; a religion thai 
condemned feeling, and contented itself with the cold 
speculations of morality. One of the causes of this was 
supposed to be their mode of worship, inasmuch as they 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 23" 

True piety a steady and uniform principle. 

confined themselves, in all the public services of the sane 
tuary, to a prescript form. 

Mrs. Janeway, who seemed to have caught a degree of the 
inspiration that animated Miss Truman, replied, with some 
warmth, " 1 think that we may deny both the fact asserted, 
and the validity of the reason assigned. In the Jirst place, 
it is not a fact, that the religion of Episcopalians is a reli- 
gion with which the heart has no concern ; and, secondly, 
it is not true that a prescript form of prayer tends to deaden 
spirituality , and dwarf true piety. If there be not found 
within our Zion that bewildering glare of fitful light which 
flashes like the lightning's lurid blaze across the sky of some, 
I trust we have among us a steady flame of piety, which, 
like the fire on the Jewish altar, burns on, from day to day, 
ar.d year to year, and intermits not its light and warmth. 

'I might state certain facts connected with the circum- 
stances which first brought me within the pale of the Epis- 
copal church, that would not only show that the objections 
urged are utterly groundless, but that true piety nowhere 
finds so safe and firm anchorage as in this blessed haven 
of the Redeemer. 

' 4 1 feel attached to the Episcopal church," continued 
Mrs. Janeway, " because it possesses, in an eminent de- 
gree, the very excellencies in which these objections sup- 
pose it deficient. I love the clwrch for her liturgy, which 
is calculated to promote seriousness and sobriety — rational, 
dignified, and consistent views of religion, and tends to 
inspire an enduring and abiding zeal. They first struck 
my eye as a prominent excellence in this ancient and vene- 
rs&lf bolwHrk of Christian faith. The piety of her mem- 
bers did ?tot appear to me like the sudden and startling 
blaze of the comet, but like the mild and steady beams of 
the fixed stars. The river of their peace seemed to flow 
on in an ^qunble and unfluctuating current. 

" My lot, in early life, was cast in the midst of a com- 
munity where the Episcopal cliurch was unknown. My 
immediate ancestors belonged to the Methodist connexion. 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 




The walnut grove. 



and I was educated in the views peculiar to that denomina 
lion of Christians. 

" My first religious impressions, which were of any con 
tinuance, were produced at a quarterly meeting. This is a 
season of deep interest to the Methodist church, it being 
the time when the sacrament of the Lord's supper is ad- 
ministered to the communicants of several congregations 
convened in one assembly. These assemblies are fre- 
quently so large, that no ordinary church edifice will con- 
tain them. Hence, when the weather is fine, and the 
place affords conveniences, the sermon is preached in the 
open air. This was the case at the time to which I allude. 

J* In the immediate vicinity of the village in which we 
resided, there stood a young and beautiful walnut grove. 
The land had once been cleared and cultivated, and these 
trees, though they had now attained considerable height 
had grown up within the memory of several of the vil- 
lagers. This grove was bounded on the north by a lofty 
range of hills, and on the south by the remains of the 
ancient forest. The road which led to the village passed 
along on the eastern side, and on the west this umbrageous 
retreat, by a gentle decl'vity, sloped down to the m.^gin of 
a lake, whose blue waters spread out in beautiful expanse 
before the delighted eye. The surface of the earth through 
the whole extent of this grove was carpeted with the 
richest green. 

" This was the spot selected for the quarterly meeting. 
Temporary benches, and a rude pulpit or stage, had been 
fitted up for the occasion. 

" No one could have stood in the midst of this rural 
scene as it ordinarily existed, and contemplated the thick 
foliage that hung around him, the hum of a thousand in- 
sects, and the ripple of the ever-returning wave, that fell 
upon his ear, without subdued and seriovs feeling — without 
a tinge of that pleasing melancholy, or a glow of that en- 
thusiasm, which the still and quiet scenes of nature usually 
inspire. But when this entire grove became crowded with 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 233 

The quarterly meeting. True eloquence. The judgment. 

one extended mass of thinking and listening beings, and 
the same breathless silence pervaded it, the effect would be 
heightened a thousand fold. 

" Such was the scene exhibited, when Mr. C ■, the 

presiding elder, stood upon the rude platform just alluded 
to, and addressed the listening thousands whom this quar- 
terly meeting had convened. As the rich cadence of hi* 
clear, commanding, and deep-toned voice died upon orr 
ear, the stillness of solitude pervaded the whole grove, mi 
every eye seemed riveted upon the face of this venerabfa 
man of God. His was an almost unearthly eloquence. His 
eye seemed fixed upon eternal things, and he described 
them with the vividness of one actually looking into the 
invisible world. 

" He had evidently caught new inspiration from \ht 
scene around him, and the lofty and impassioned strain 
in which he descanted upon the ways of God, exerted a 
singularly tranquillizing effect upon the whole audience. 
Not a groan or a sigh escaped from a single lip. Not even 
the rustling of a leaf was heard. 

" His text was from the ninety-seventh Psalm : — A fire 
goeth before him, and burnetii up his enemies round about. 
His lightnings enlighten the world: the earth saw, and 
trembled. The hills melted like wax at the presence of the 
Lord, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth. 

" This passage he applied to the judgment, and drew a 
most affecting and terrific picture of the conflagration of 
the last day, when the morning sun would suddenly wane, 
and the heavens grow black, and the stars rush from their 
orbits, and the thunders of coming wrath would fall upon 
the startled ear and the clang of the archangel's trumpet, 
joined with the crash of the pillars of the earth, would wake 
the slumbering dead. 

" But the colours in this picture were faint, compared 
with that which he drew of the anguish, sorrow, shame, 
and horror, that would seize the impenitent sinner in that 
fearful hour when rocks would not fall upon him, no? 

20* 




234 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Distress of mind. 

. — _ — -* 

mountains cover him from the dread presence of an aveng- 
ing God. 

" The truth had been spoken, and spoken most elo- 
quently and faithfully. The Holy Spirit accompanied the 
word. Many were pricked to the heart, and myself among 
the number. It seemed as though the curtain had actually 
been lifted up, and the tremendous scenes of judgment 
made to pass before my eyes. A sort of strange and be- 
wildering terror came over my brain. My guilt rose in 
awful and appalling colours before me ; and it seemed as 
though the sentence, which was about to consign me to the 
the fiery concave of endless wo, was then trembling on the 
iips of the Judge. 

" I retired from this assembly under the deepest distress. 
Alarm and terror were the emotions that principally pre- 
dominated in my mind. I had no peace. Wherever 1 
w^iii, the dismal portals of hell seemed opening to receive 
me. I tried to read my Bible. I tried to pray ; but terror, 
dread terror, drink up my spirits, and pressed like a load 
of ice upon my heart. 

" The state of my mind did not long remain unknown to 
my friend. They exhorted me to seek the Lord while 
he might be found, and to call upon him while he was 
near. They appointed numerous meetings on my account, 
and were very fervent in their prayers to God for my con- 
version. One of these meetings I shall never forget. It 
was held at the house of Mr. Jane way, the father of him 
who afterwards became my husband. This old gentleman 
was remarkably zealous in the cause of his Master, and on 
the present occasion he seemed transported far beyond the 
bounds of his ordinary fervour. The manner in which 
prayer meetings are usually conducted in private houses 
among the Methodist connexion, is as follows. All 
kneel down, and one commences with prayer. As soon 
as he ceases petitioning the Father of spirits, another in- 
rtantly commences praying, while all still continue E£«B 
tr»eii knees. And thus the devotions proceed, until sev* 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 235 

The prayer meeting. 

rai individuals have addressed the throne of mercy. Thee 
they al T arise and sing; and the thrilling and animating 
character of their music is calculated to elevate the feelings 
to the highest pitch. As soon as the hymn is closed, all 
again prostrate themselves before the throne of God, and 
the devotions proceed as before. If there is a moment- 
ary pause between any of the prayers, some voice strikes 
up a hymn, which has for its subject encouragement to 
prayer, and usually by the time one verse is sung, the 
voice of supplication is again heard. There is something 
solemn and deeply affecting in these meetings, when con- 
ducted with sobriety and decorum. 

" On the occasion, however, to which I have alluded, 
the feelings of several individuals had become exceedingly 
excited, and several voices were frequently heard com- 
mingled in devotion at the same time. At length there 
was a temporary pause. Not a groan or a sigh was heard. 
The silence of death pervaded the whole house. Mr. 
Janeway, the old gentleman of whom I spoke, came for- 
ward where I sat, and thus addressed me : — 

" * Charlotte, can you yet rejoice in the Lord V 

" You can well imagine from what 1 have already told 
you of my previous state of mind, that my feelings would 
naturally have been greatly excited by the exercises of this 
meeting. I felt that I had no lot nor part in what was pass- 
ing around me. Indeed, I sat in the midst of this circle as 
a reprobate spirit would sit amid the hosannas of heaven. 
When, therefore, this question was so unexpectedly ad- 
dressed to me, and every eye turned towards me, I could 
only say, with half-choked utterance, * My heart is a 
stranger to joy? 

" ' Brethren and sisters,' said Mr. Janeway, * let us 
make our special requests to God in behalf of this pool 
sinner.' 

•'Upon this, I was told to kneel dowr, and a number of 
persons kneeled around me, forming a circ\e. Each one 



236 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Excitement of the imagination. 



of these in succession implored the divine mercy upon els 
with strong cries and impassioned groans. The effect upor- 
me was astonishing. As they described in their appeals to 
heaven, the mansions of glory, in all the glowing imagery 
with which their excited imaginations had invested those 
abodes of celestial peace, the upper world, with all its 
bright effulgence, seemed now opening upon me. To the 
often repeated question addressed to me, when prayer for 
a moment was intermitted — ' Do you not now feel that 
your sins are pardoned ?' I at length replied in the lan- 
guage of St. Stephen, — 

" ' I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man stand- 
ing on the right hand of God.' 

" This called forth a burst of universal joy. Glory and 
praise to God were shouted from every lip. 

" I thought I was converted, and was pronounced so by 
my friends, who had been so earnestly engaged in prayer 
for me. But, alas ! the next morning all my rapture was 
gone. My sins still stared me in the face, and seemed to 
<*all for vengeance from above. I determined to spend as 
much of my time as I could in the house of God, in hopes 
of fin 'ing relief in thus waiting upon him. 

" A custom prevails in the Methodist church, of gather- 
ing out from the congregation all who are seriously im- 
pressed, and bringing them forward around the altar, to be 
the subject of special prayer. After the ordinary services 
are closed, the mourners, as these persons are called, are 
invited to come forward, and kneel around the altar. 
Prayer is then offered up, by several individuals in succes- 
sion, for them. This is all well and piously intended, 
and, in some instances, may be attended with happy re- 
sults. It was not, however, in my case. 

" Having once brought myself to this public declaration 
of my seriousness, I thought that I had performed a great 
act of duty — that I had taken up my cross, and com- 
n»*nced a religious life, and was almost prepared to exho*"* 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 237 

Danger of pride. Spiritual declension. 

others, when, in fact, I was blind and ignorant, and need 
ed to be instructed in the first principles of the oracles oj 
God. 

" Ere I was aware of it, a sort of self-complacency — a 
feeling very nearly allied to pride — began to spring up 
within me every time I rose to go to the altar. I am fully 
of the opinion, that in all instances where a young female 
can so far overcome that native diffidence which causes 
her to shrink from the public gaze, as to come forward and 
take so conspicuous a station amid a crowded assembly, 
conscious that she is an object of universal interest, she is 
in great danger of jeopardizing that humble and lowly 
6pirit which should ever characterize the followers of 
Jesus. 

" My mind had become only partially enlightened. I 
relied too much upon a sort of animal excitement, or effer- 
vescence of feeling, which agitates but does not purify the 
heart. I did not have those deep and humbling views of 
the guilt and heinousness of sin, and the need of deliver- 
ance from its bondage, that the gospel inculcates. I rather 
looked at the consequences than the character of sin; and, 
therefore, was more anxious to escape the wrath of God, 
than to live to his glory. The work of grace, however, 
I believe, had commenced in my heart. 

" I was received as a probationary member of the Me- 
thodist church. Before the stated period for probation 
expired, however, I had relapsed into all my foimer apathy 
and indifference in reference to the subject cf religion, and, 
therefore, did not come forward to claim my privilege. In 
this state of spiritual death I continued for many years, till 
at length an event of the most afflicting character aroused 
me, through the mercy of God, to a perception of the sad 
state I was in."' 

Just at this moment, as Mrs. Janeway paused in her 
narrative, it was observable to all the company, that the 
brother of Miss Truman seemed suddenly roused from 
the quiescent posture in which he had remained from the 



238 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Young Truman. 



commencement of the conversation. A tinge of crimson 
streaked his pale and delicate features, as he inquired, 

44 Would it be esteemed rude or indecorous for one so 
younc to express an opinion in reference to one or two 
rem? -ks that have just been offered ?" 

" Y .)'.: have touched a tender point with my brother, who 
is half a Methodist," said Miss Truman, addressing herself 
to Mrs. Janeway. 

" I should be sorry to inflict pain upon any one by my 
remarks," said Mrs. Janeway. »* It is my earnest wish, 
Mr. Truman, that you should deliver yourself with perfect 
freedom in relation to any observation I may have made." 

With some indications of timidity, but yet with a firm- 
ness of manner that increased as he proceeded, young 
Truman observed, 

"I am not, as my sister has affirmed, half a Metho- 
dist ; though were I one of that devoted and zealous people, 
I should not be ashamed of that honourable designation, 
but would bind it as a garland around my brow. But I 
claim to be a member of the Episcopal church, and I will 
yield precedence to none in my attachment to this church. 
I love the church for her spirituality and Catholicism. It 
was the apprehension that Mrs. Janeway was departing in 
some measure from the kind and catholic spirit of her 
church, that prompted me to take this liberty to give utter- 
ance to my feelings. You seem to infer, Mrs. Janeway, 
that because in a single instance a few members of the 
Methodist church acted under undue excitement, as they 
did at the prayer meeting of which you speak, that, there- 
fore, the whole Methodist connexion are deficient in Chris- 
tian sobriety, and that their whole religion is made up of 
impulses and excitements. Now let me ask, is it candid, 
is it in consonance with that * charity which is kind and 
thinketh no evil,' to draw a general sweeping conclusion 
against a whole denomination of Christians, from the indis* 
cretion of a few individuals that chance to belong to it? 

44 Again; you seem to think that pride and many im 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 239 



Uncharitable judgment. 



proper feelings will necessarily be awakened in the bosom 
of tht»se who, while under serious impressions, go forward 
to the altar to ask an interest in the prayers of God's j»"ople. 
Now in this I must beg leave to differ from you. In your 
own case it operated unfavourably ; but in thousands of 
instances, this practice adopted among our Methodist bre- 
thren has unquestionably been the means of confirming the 
undecided, and bringing out on the side of the Lord, those 
who would otherwise have remained undistinguished with 
the impenitent, till the voice of warning within them was 
•tided. What I object to is, giving a sweeping verdict 
against a denomination, by singling out one or two prac- 
tices, or abuses, and fixing upon these as indicative of the 
character and spirit of the whole body. Now, I ask if 
we were judged in this way, how would it fare with us ? 
Are there not sad instances of a low state of piety in our 
communion, and of worldliness both in the ministers and 
members of our church ? Though now, generally speaking, 
among us, the gospel trumpet gives no uncertain sound ; yet 
in times past have there not been many pulpits from which 
there emanated no clear and scriptural instruction in relation 
to the doctrines of grace, and the way in which a sinner 
can be justified before God ? A few years since, would it 
have been difficult to have found congregations, worshipping 
in Episcopal churches, and going through all the forms of 
the Prayer Book, who were as utterly destitute of all spirit- 
uality as though God did not look at the heart, but ob- 
served only the outward appearance ? Would it have been 
right to have condemned the whole Episcopal church on 
the ground of these single and isolated facts ? Could these 
instances be urged as a valid and conclusive argument 
against the use of a liturgy ? Would these instances have 
shown that the Episcopal church was unsound in the faith, 
or unevangelical in doctrine ? In my view, by no means. 
And yet this mode of reasoning has been adopted by those 
who would build themselves up upon our ruins. Is it not 
true that this is what we have principally to complain 



240 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The zealous efforts of the Methodists. 

of in other denominations? They have judged of the 
character of the Episcopal church from the conduct of 
those who, though within its pale, were not animated with 
its spirit, nor under the influence of its principles. Ought 
we not then to be very careful, and not do the same thing ? 
God has certainly put the broad seal of his approbation on 
the zealous efforts of our Methodist brethren. They have 
done and are doing a work which is rescuing thousands 
from the pathway of perdition, and swelling the glorious 
retinue of Immanuel. The very custom which you re- 
probate, of going forward to the altar as subjects of special 
prayer, they think has been blessed to a great multitude 
which no man can number, many of whom are now in 
glory. Pardon this interruption, and do not regard these 
remarks as indicative of presuming forwardness in one 
who should rather listen than speak. I cannot bear to hear 
the Episcopal elmrch vindicated in a way that will reflect 
censure upon other evangelical churches." 

" I am delighted, my young friend," replied Mrs. Jane- 
way, " with the spirit that you have evinced, and I would 
not intentionally say aught that might seem to be in dis- 
cordance with that charity which 'suflereth long and is kind.' 
I think I might entirely vindicate the positions I have taken, 
and show that there is nothing in them contrary to this 
heaven-born spirit. But I waive this discussion. I have 
no warfare with the beloved people among whom my soul 
was first awakened to a perception of my guilt and danger. 
No — no, I love them : still I may he permitted to say that 
theie are peculiarities in the Episcopal church, which lead 
me to prefer it before all others." 

Mrs. Janeway was now requested to proceed in the nar- 
rative she had commenced. For a moment she paused 
and then said : 

" I observed that, it was by an afflicting dispensation of 
Providence that I was again awakened to a sense of my spi- 
ritual condition. Often, the earthly good that we set oui 
hearts most upon is the very thing that God sees necessary 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVEL1 ERS. 24 1 

A mother's anxiety while over a sick child. 

to pluck away from us in order to save our souls. The 
oubble must burst — the thorn must pierce our hands, before 
we can be induced to view things as they are. One has 
truly and beautifully said — 

" The child who sees the dew of night, 

Upon the spangled hedge of morn, 
Attempts to catch the drops of light ; 

But wounds his finger with the thorn. 
Thus, oft, the brightest joys we seek 

Dissolve when touch'd, and turn to pain ; 
The flush they kindle leaves the cheek, 

The tears they waken long remain. 

44 1 had been happily married, and a merciful God htd 
preserved my life to be the mother of a promising son. 
He had now attained a very interesting age, being three 
years old, and was quite a companion for his father and 
myself. Being unusually forward, he had learned to read, 
and seemed to comprehend things far beyond his age. He 
was full of sensibility and affection. Daring his sickness, 
when his father sat by his bed, he would often say, * Take 
my hand, papa,' — and when his father took his hand he 
would smile, as though his utmost wish was gratified. 
His sweet image is still before me ; and long shall I re- 
member his little sayings and remarks. 

" He was at first but slightly indisposed, and for two or 
three weeks we apprehended no danger. But his disease 
at length became more visible, and put on a more obstinate 
and alarming character ; so thi*t, for the last three weeks 
of his life, it was plainly manifest that he was gradually 
sinking down to death. The thought of losing my child 
lad never before seriously entered my mind ; and that 
thought now became agony to me. I determined not to 
«eave him for one moment, night nor day ; and many 
lilent hours did I sit and gaze upon his pale and ema- 
ciated features, as he patiently lay wasting away beneath 
the ravages of disease. The time at length came wh«o 
91 



242 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The backslidden without comfort in the hour of affliction. 

the si] "ht cord was to be loosened. O, I shall never forget 
the expiession that his features put on, when the lustre 
began to fade from his eye, and the light from his animated 
countenance ! 

44 Soon the muscles in his face became fixed and motion- 
less. His heart had ceased to throb. There my child lay 
breathless before me ! No one but a parent, who has had 
a darling child plucked away by death, can understand the 
deep and overwhelming sorrow which then weighed me 
down. I felt perfectly inconsolable. The world and its 
richest treasures then appeared to me as vain and valueless 
as children's baubles. 

" I '-id not see the hand of God in this affliction, for my 
mind was completely occupied with what I had lost. I felt 
niserable, but did not know where to find relief. I felt 
the need of an almighty arm to lean upon, but, a stranger 
to Christian resignation, I still brooded over my sorrows, 
and looked not towards the hand that had inflicted the blow. 

• 4 Mr. Janeway had in early life been under very deep 
re4igious exercises. He persuaded himself at that time 
that his mind had been transformed by the renewing grace 
of God, and he therefore had made a profession of religion. 
But alas ! his piety had too nearly resembled my own, and 
he had long since fallen into a backslidden state. He was 
therefore but ill prepared to pour the balm of consolation 
into my wounded bosom." 

Here Mrs. Janeway paused, as though agitated by deep 
internal feeling. The retrospect she had been taking had 
aroused i tide of emotion which she in vain sought to con- 
trol. In spite of all her efforts, tears gushed from her eyes>, 
and for a moment she could not proceed. The image of 
the departed rose before her, and her tears were a tribute 
to the memory of the dead. 

" Mr. Janeway," at length she proceeded, "was one of 
the best of men and kindest of husbands. And blessed be 
the name of the ever gracious and adorable Jehovah, mv 
husband was not taken from me until he had giren the 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 243 

Mrs. Maison. 



most satisfactory evidence that all was right between him 
and his Maker. I shall ever love the Methodists for his 
sake, and for the sake of my parents. I believe, as a peo- 
ple, they are doing great good in the world, and that there 
is among them much heavenly-mindedness and devotion to 
the Saviour. And among the happiest visions that will 
burst upon my view when the veil of mortality is lifted up, 
I have no doubt, will be the recognition of some whom I 
knew, and with whom I held sweet and holy converse, in 
the Methodist church. 

" But this does not alter my sense of duty or of right 
I left the church in which I was educated under the con- 
scientious belief that I was attaching myself to a purer 
and more apostolic church. I conceive it to be a duty 
sacredly obligatory upon every individual, when convinced 
of error, to relinquish it, and embrace the truth, whatever 
sacrifices it may cost. 

" The occurrence which first drew my attention towards 
the Episcopal church was the following : — 

"I had been acquainted from childhood with a neighbour 
of ours, Mrs. Maison, who had uniformly been distin- 
guished for correct and exemplary deportment. I had 
always loved this lady for the sweetness of her temper, 
and the gentleness of her manners. 

"Mrs. Maison professed to be a pious woman, and there 
certainly was nothing in her external conduct at variance 
with this profession. I, however, when I first became im- 
pressed with serious things, used to think that the tem- 
perature of her piety was altogether too cold. It was then 
a season of great excitement. A sort of religious sympa- 
thetic glow seemed to pervade the whole community. Mrs, 
Maison did not seem to enter very warmly into this excited 
state of feeling, and I then drew the uncharitable conclusion 
that she was a cold formalist, and a stranger to heartfelt 
religion. 

" Some two years after this, when all lry effervescence 
of feeling had subsided, I one day called upon Mrs. Maison 



244 GATHERED FRAGMENTS, 



The power of sympathy chastened and directed by true piety. 

and found her in deep affliction. She had but a few 
months before buried her husband, and that morning' she 
had received the melancholy intelligence of the death of a 
promising and only son. To my utter astonishment, she 
appeared tranquil and sustained. It is true, her heart was 
weighed down with sorrow — she had all the feelings of a 
bereaved mother ; but her grief seemed chastened with the 
thought that God had done it; and with her it was a fun- 
damental article of faith, that God doeth all things well. 
Her tranquillity at this moment was the result of an entire 
casting of all her care upon Jesus. 

" When I learned her views, witnessed her meek sub- 
mission, and saw the steadiness of her faith, I altered my 
opinion, and concluded that her piety, like gold tried in the 
fire, was unmixed with any earthly alloy, and would be 
found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appear- 
ing of Jesus Christ. These impressions, however, soon 
passed away, and I ceased to regard Mrs. Maison in any 
other light than that of an amiable and interesting ac- 
quaintance. 

" But, in that dark hour of sorrow and affliction to which 
I have referred, the voice of no friend seemed to soothe 
my heart like hers. She had suffered bereavement, and 
knew how to sympathize with the bereaved. Her unaf- 
fected and unostentatious piety now appeared to me inva- 
luable. I saw that she was drawing streams of comfort 
from a fountain to which I was a stranger. I now began 
to think seriously upon my past ways, and to mourn over 
ray aberrations from the path of duty. Mrs. Maison kindly 
sought to bind up my broken heart, and to point me to the 
only source of comfort. Sometimes, when she found me 
overwhelmed with sorrow, she would gently take my hand 
and say, ' You are sick with grief; but there is balm in 
Gilead, and a Physician there.'' 

" One day, as Mrs. Maison dropped in, I :iaid to her, 
*T am truly glad to see you; you always make me fee/ 
be'ter, and resolve to do better.' 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 245 

Christian counsel. Mistakes about religion. 



" • I am happy,' she replied, ' if I can in any way col 
tribute to your temporal or spiritual comfort." 

" * I desire,' said I, ' to be a Christian, but I know noi 
what course to take.' 

" ' In the day of adversity, consider, is a scriptural 
precept,' answered Mrs. Maison. 

" ' I have been considering,' replied I, « I have been 
considering God's dealings with me, and I am greatly 
anxious to obtain his favour. I want those deep, abiding, 
soul-sustaining views of religion which you possess.' 

" 'My dear friend,' replied Mrs. Mais >n, 'I fear you 
have too exalted an opinion of my attainments in the divine 
life. It is unquestionably true, however, that that religion, 
which is not of a steady and uniform character is of little 
value.' 

" ' This was the rock upon which my bark was wrecked,' 
said I ; * I once thought I was making the port of eternal 
life, but I was soon driven back by the winds of human 
passion to the point from whence I started. I want a reli- 
gion that will stand by me through life, and will not forsake 
me at the hour of death. My feelings are easily excited : but, 
nlas, former experience has convinced me, that this excite- 
ment will pass away like the morning cloud and early dew* 

" ' Perhaps,' said Mrs. Maison, ' one reason why your 
religions impressions were characterized with e o little per- 
manency, was, that you had formed erroneous opinions of 
the true nature of religion.' 

" ' Very likely,' replied I, * but I think my mind is now 
:pcn to conviction.' 

" ' I have known many people,' continued Mrs. Maison, 
1 who thought that if they could once attain unequivocal 
evidence that they were born again, they might, with pro- 
priety, dismiss all further solicitude about their salvation ; 
while others, no less remote from the truth, were of opinion . 
that if they could work up their feelings to a certain pitch 
of fervour, this was a conclusive and satisfactory evidence 
that they enjoyed the favour of God. Now these views 
21* 



Z4 6 GATHERED FRAGMENT*. 



The nature of Christian faith. 



(r',m th*? very nature of things, must induce an unsubstg 
lia.1 nnd evanescent piety. 

•' ■ it is important to begin at the beginning. There mns* 
be a work of grace in the heart, there must be a renovation 
in the inner man, before we can serve God aright. Our 
religion must be of that character which warms the feel- 
ings, and kindles the affections into a kindly glow. But, 
at the same time, it must be remembered that faith, the 
vital principle of Christian piety, is an active and operative 
principle. The Christian religion is not a set of abstract 
notions, but a system of practical truths, that can and 
bhould be brought to bear upon every action of our lives — 
to mould every temper of our minds, and regulate every 
disposition of our souls. The Christian's labour is never 
finished till his earthly career is finished. The promise i« 
Be thou faithful unto death, and 1 1 *U give thee a crown 
cf life. He must be unceasingly engaged in the work of 
his divine Master. And whatever he does, whether he 
eats or drinks, he must do all to the glory of God.' 

" I thought much upon these remarks of my friend ; and 
the next time that I saw her I told her that I was now con- 
vinced that I had formerly mistaken the true nature of re- 
ligion, but hoped, through her kind instruction, to proceed 
with more wisdom and prudence in search of the pearl of 
great price. 

" ' I fear,' said Mrs. Maison, ' I should be but a poor 
guide to you ; for I may say that for many years I have been 
deprived of a spiritual guide. But my heart this morning 
is greatly rejoiced with some intelligence that 1 have re- 
ceived. I underst nd that the Rev. Mr. S , one of the 

ministers of my own church, viV officiate in this place 
next Sunday.' 

" 'I have never known,' said I, ' among what denomi- 
nation of Christians you classed yourself.' 

M 'It is my exalted privilege to be a member, though a 
way unworthy one,' said Mrs. Maison, ' of the Episcopal 
-hurch. 



THE MEETING OF THE TELA TELLERS. 247 



The object of our visit to the sanctuary. 



" * Indeed !' replied I ; ■ I have always heard that church 
tpc&cn of as a very cold, lukewarm body. But if you have 
\ir£.wn your views from the. doctrines it inculcates, I wish 
lo become acquainted with this church. Will you allow 
me to accompany you next Sunday V 

* 4 'Certainly,' said Mrs. Maison; 'and if, after attending 
service in the Episcopal church two or three times, you are 
not satisfied with what you hear, I will not again ask you 
to go there for instruction.' 

"One has remarked," continued Mrs. Janeway, "that 

" Real faith is like the sun's fair flower, 
Which, midst the clouds that shroud it, and the winds 
That wave it to and fro, and all the changes 
Of air, and earth, and sky, doth rear its head, 
And iooketh up stiil steadfast to its God. 

•' I could not but think of these worJs when Mrs. Maisoii 
left me. She, most obviously, had real faith. Amid all 
the changes that had come over her, she had continued to 
iook steadfastly up to God. 

44 Agreeably to our appointment, the next Sunday I me! 
Mrs. Maison, and accompanied her to the place where the 
Episcopal missionary was expected to preach. Long before 
he commenced his sermon, my feelings were interested in a 
way and to a degree which I cannot describe. The service 
was new to me, but it struck me as heavenly and sublime 
There was a simplicity, and fervour, and animation, and 
decorum about it, which I had never before observed in any 
mode of worship. As this spiritual offering of devout hearts 
ascended on high, I could not hut say to myself, again and 
again, This is worship! this is worship J And the thought 
now struck me, in a way in which it never had before, that 
the great business for which we visit the sanctuary ef th« 
>iost High is, to worship. 

" When the minister proceeded to his sermon, he ac- 
". junced this passage as his text : Wherewith shall 1 come 
nefore the Lord, and bow myself befort the high Oo » ? 



248 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



Spiritual worship. Growth in gra e 



Mic. vi. 6. This he applied to public worship, showing 
what public worship should be ; and then proceeded io 
consider whether the liturgy of the Episcopal church wss 
a fit service wherewith to come before the Lord. 

" He showed, most conclusively, that, if offered in 
sincerity, it was a spiritual offering ; and, frcm its whole 
structure and arrangement, admirably calculated to keep up 
attention, and excite the highest devotional feelings. 

" 'It is impossible, said he, 'for the worldly man to 
join in this service, understandingly, and not resolve to 
amend his ways. It is impossible for the Christian, how 
ever indisposed his mind may be to heavenly converse in 
the commencement — it is impossible for him to go through 
this solemn service, without feeling, kindling within him, 
a glow of almost seraphic devotion. The liturgy is calcu- 
lated to awaken and keep alive a pure and steady flame of 
Christian zeal. It checks, by its sober and rational offices, 
the ebullitions of enthusiasm ; and awakens and fans, by 
the deep spirituality that pervades those offices, the name 
of pure devotion. The doctrinal views it exhibits, and the 
manner in which it exhibits them, admirably harmonize 
with the spirit of genuine Christianity. 

" ' The great error of the present day is the opinion, tha* 
when the heart has been once brought to feel the quicken 
ing influence of the Holy Spirit, the business of religion is 
at an end. In direct opposition to this opinion, the Prayer 
Book instructs those who approach the divine throne, tc 
entreat the Father of mercies to pour upon his ministers 
and the congregations committed to their charge, the con* 
tiaual dew of his blessing — that they may daily be re- 
newed by his Holy Spirit — daily increase in righteousness 
and true holiness more and more, until they come unto his 
everlasting kingdom. Growth in grace, and continual in- 
crease in the divine life, are ideas to whicli great prominenev 
.*o given, and great importance attached, in the Prayer Book 

" ' Then, too, this formula of worship, by the arrange* 
ment of its service, brings before us in succession all the 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 249 

Information in relation to the Episcopal church. 

great events and doctrines connected with the work of our 
redemption. Each Sunday it has some new and interesting 
truth for our consideration ; and, by thus continually calling 
our attention to the different and separate parts of this great 
and glorious system of grace, the mind is kept active, the 
interest is not suffered to decline, nor the warmth of piety 
to languish. And I do really believe, that such a systema* 
tic arrangement of subjects as the Prayer Book presents, 
not only tends to edification, but is eminently calculated to 
kindle and keep alive true Christian zeal in the heart.' 

" This sermon imparted to me much valuable informa- 
tion, and I was more than ever convinced that I had 
hitherto been ignorant of the true nature of religion. The 
Episcopal missionary preached in our village three Sundays 
in succession. I was a constant attendant ; and the more 
I saw and heard, the more I admired this mode of worship, 

" It so happened that I did not meet Mrs, Maison, except 
at church, until after the third Sunday on which we had 
had Episcopal service. 

" The next time she called upon me, an almost unearthly 
radiance lit up her countenance, as she affectionately em- 
braced me, and said, — 

" ' Rejoice with me, for the Lord hath heard the voice 
of my supplication. Long have I made it the subject of 
earnest prayer to God, that he would plant in this region a 
branch of his pure apostolic church, and grant to me the 
unspeakable privilege of again mingling my voice with his 
people, in the language of that liturgy which I was taught 
to lisp in infancy to the praise of his glorious name. 

" ' And now, my dear friend,' continued Mrs. Maison, 
4 arrangements are making, as I understand, to have stated 
Episcopal service in this place. Will you not rejoi te with 
me?' 

" ' Yes,' I replied, * and constantly go with you to that 
service.' 

" * But how can you leave your own church ?' said Mrs. 
Maison. 'Will it not grieve your friends to see yon 



250 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Correspondence between the lessons of Scripture ajd the devotional services. 

attending the services of a church, against which they 
cherish such strong prejudices V 

" * In this matter,' said I, ' I must act for myself, and 
follow what appears to me to be * v, .e p^th of d_ty. And o^ 
this subject my mind is entirely nade up.' 

" ' I am glad you have come to this conclusion without 
st.j; help from me,' said Mrs. Maison. ' Although no one 
.an be more pleased with the result than I am, still I did 
not wish to warp your judgment. And now I suppose I 
may ask, how you were pleased with our mode of wor- 
ship V 

" ' So well pleased,' answered I, i that I am become a 
thorough convert to the argument of your preacher. The 
service appears to me s sublime and spiritual that I fee] 
confident it will never wear out ; art I shall never become 
weary of it.' 

" ' There is certainly much to keep up the interest, in 
our form of worship,' said Mrs. Maison. ' The different 
parts assigned to the minister and people, in the perform- 
ance of this service, produce the most happy and animating 
influence upon all. And did you observe what a delightful 
correspondence there was between the Scriptures that were 
;ead, and the services that followed ?' 

" ' 1 do not know,' said I, ' that I understand the precis** 
points to which you refer.' 

" * You know,' she continued, ' that the lesson, on the 
first Sunday on which we had service, being the 20th Sun- 
day after Trinity, was the 17th chapter of 1 Kings, which 
relates the interesting story of Elijah's sojourn with th'. 1 
widow of Zarephath — records the fact, that the barrel oj 
meal toasted not, neither did the cruise of oil fail, upon 
which they all subsisted, and describes, with a simplicity 
and pathos unequalled, the grief of the bereaved mother 
upon the death of her child, and the manner in which he 
was restored to life. This display of Almighty power 
having been recited in the hearing of the congregation, 
they rise up in one great company, and thus address the 



THE MEETING* OF THE TRAVELLER*. 251 

The excellencies of the liturgy. 

Eternal, We praise thee, O God ; we acknowledge thee to 
be the Lord. Equally applicable is this address to Jeho- 
vah, as it followed the lessons, last Sunday and the Sun- 
day before, being the 21st and 22d Sundays after Trinity. 
The one records a display of divine power as manifestei 
in healing the Syrian leper : the other, in protecting Daniel 
in the lions' den. 

" * So at the close of the second lesson, taken from the 
New Testament, which related our Saviour's interview 
with Nicodemus, and glanced at the grand object of his 
mission to our earth, to redeem and regenerate our fallen 
race ; nothing could follow more fit or appropriate, than 
the hymn in which the whole congregation unite, 

" * Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he hath visit- 
ed and redeemed his people ; 

" * And hath raised up a mighty salvation for us in 
the house of his servant David. ,' 

" Thus Mrs. Maison from time to time called my atten- 
tion to the striking excellencies of the liturgy, and it was 
not long before I acquired such a relish for it that I c*>uld 
be satisfied with no other mode of worship. I became a 
member of the Episcopal church. Of this act I have 
never had cause to repent. I have been called to pass 
through many trials, but the Lord hath never left nor for- 
saken me. Often has the animating spirit that pervades the 
Prayer B juK, rekindled the expiring flame of devotion, and 
awakened within me new purposes to live to the glory o£ 
God" 



352 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Sympathetic influence. 






CHAPTER V. 



MR. COLCHESTER. 



" Cast thy bread upon the waters ; for thou shall find it after many 
days." From the Book of Lcclesiastes. 

Mankind are sympathetic beings. This peculiarity in 
the human constitution accounts for numerous moral phe- 
nomena, which would otherwise be inexplicable. It ac- 
XNints for that strong tendency, which seems interwoven 
vith our very nature, to become assimilated and identified 
*rith whatever is immediately around us. We are con- 
itantly acted upon by the moral and intelligent beings with 
whom we are brought into contact. Almost unconsciously 
are we led by the sympathetic and social principle that 
connects us with other beings, to laugh with those who 
laugh and weep with those who weep. We see this sym- 
pathetic principle operating in a great variety of ways. 
We cannot but have observed how often in the social circle, 
where one has begun to relate an anecdote, there has been 
awakened a perfect passion for repeating incidents of a 
similar character. In like manner the reader will undoubt- 
edly recollc- seated instances, where, after an individual 
had, in the ui* of a little group, been led to give some 
account of his own personal history, the whole company 
present have been s.jigularly prompted to turn auto- 
biographers. I recollect a striking instance of this in 
a stage-coach. The inclemsncy of the weather and the 
state of the roads rendered every thing dull and gloomy 
tround us. There were some eight or nine passengers if 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 253 

Narrative-relating mood. 



the coach, most cf whom were entire strangers to each 
other. The travelling was excessively bad — the day dark 
and stormy ; and for a while, as we were slowly rolled on, 
splashing through the water and mud, each one seemed 
wrapped in his own thoughts and private meditations. At 
length, however, occasional remarks were offered by one 
and another, till at length some observation, the nature of 
which I do not now recollect, led one of the passengers, 
who was a very plain sort of man, to entertain us with a 
sketch of his own personal history. When he had brought 
his narrative to a close, to my utter astonishment, another 
person who sat near him began to introduce us into the 
arcana of his private life — detailing very minutely the cir- 
cumstances connected with his early years, his adventures 
at school, and his courtship and marriage. He was followad 
by a third ; and this mania continued to extend and prevail, 
till each one of the company, with the single exception of 
the author, had narrated their own private history, from 
beginning to end. 

So on the occasion to which the reader's attention ha? 
been directed in the preceding chapter, the narratives thai 
had been given, seemed to throw all the company into a 
narrative-relating mood. At the conclusion of Mrs. Jane- 
way's sketch of her religious history, several facts were 
mentioned, showing the misapprehension that was enter- 
tained in relation to the liturgy of the Episcopal church. 
Some had supposed it a cold formal service, better suited 
to the taste and feelings of men who had never been truly 
converted, but who wished to keep up the external decen- 
cies of religion, than to the regenerate and spiritually mind- 
ed Christian. Mr. Colchester, who had at first laboured so 
much to promote sociability among us, seemed now to feel 
prompted to meet these objections with some warmth : he 
remarked, — 

" Did I not fear that any statement I could make would 
be tedicus and tiresome after the interesting narratives to 
which we have listened, I should feel tempted to relate th* 
22 



254 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Mr. Colchester's religious history. 

manner in which my mind was first opened to a perception 
of the excellence and spiritual character of the liturgy* in 
order to show the absurdity and groundlessness of thesf 
bjections." 

Mr. Colchester was immediately assured that his appro 
i-.nsions on that score were quite unnecessary, and the 
: quest became general and very urgent, that he should add 
ihn account, to which he alluded, to the entertainment and 
; r::truction of the evening. This importunity prevailed; 
■u,d Mr. Colchester, therefore, favoured us with the follow- 
ing statement. There were several things in the account 
which he related, that struck us all as singular, and a num- 
ber of the incidents were certainly such as do not ordina- 
rily occur in real life. The statement is set down, as far 
m it can be recalled, in the words of the narrator. Whe 
iher the sketch which Mr. Colchester drew of the reformed 
profligate was a creation of his fancy, or an actual occvr- 
rence in real life, it illustrates several important principles, 
Mid brings strikingly to view the spirituality ard moral 
power of the liturgy. 

Mr. Colchester began by remarking, — 

" I fear some of the incidents I have to relate will ap- 
pear at first foreign and far-fetched, but they will be found 
in the end to be intimately connected with the causes 
which led to my first knowledge of the Episcopal church, 
md my attachment to the liturgy. 

" It was my misfortune to be born of parents who made 
this world their idol. They had no attachment to any 
particular religious denomination. They paid no attention 
to my religious education, excepting occasionally to taK*; 
me with them to a Baptist church, the only one in the 
neighbourhood, where I was neither interested nor in- 
structed by the long, dull, prosing sermons I heard. Thus, 
like thousands of others, I grew up in almost total igno- 
rance of God, and my own duty as a moral and religious 
being 

" Bvt although my parents were so neglectful of ray 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 255 



The violent shower. A c.untiy : nn. 



religious culture, they evinced the utmoct concern a'.d soli- 
citude in training me to habits that would ensure my pros- 
perity and success in business. Hence I entered upon life 
with all the knowledge and experience which a young man 
of twenty-two could acquire from the best qualified instruct- 
ers, and an extensive intercourse with society. 

" My business occasionally rendered it necessary for me 
to travel quite into the interior ; and, from the belief th it it 
was more conducive to health, I usually made these ja mts 
an horseback. It was on one of these tours, that travel- 
ling in a northern direction, and following the course of 
the Hudson, I was suddenly overtaken by a violent show- 
er. Fortunately an inn was within sight, towards which 
I rode with great speed. I arrived just in time to avoid 
being drenched with the torrents descending from the 
clouds. The whole heavens soon became overcast, and 
there appeared every indication of a dull, rainy day. 
Finding myself thus weather-bound, I looked around in 
search of some mode of entertaining myself, to beguile the 
lediousness of the livelong day. A family Bible, and one 
or two marvellous narratives of shipwrecks and captivity, 
constituted the entire library of my host. Indeed, my 
quarters were not the most enviable. A bed-room, kit- 
chen, and bar-room were the only rooms on the first floor. 
The fare was substantial, but scarcely as savory or palata- 
ble as that found in the most indifferent country farm- 
house. The kitchen was used both for a cooking and 
dining-room : and the other large apartment answered the 
twofold purpose of a bar-room and parl^u/ T laving but 
small resources within myself, the day passed heavily 
away. At length, just before the setting of the sun, the 
clouds rolled back in large and broken masses, and exhi- 
bited the glorious luminary of day sinking behind the 
western hills in bright and unobscured effulgence. It was, 
however, too late now to think of advancing on my jour- 
ney. I had concluded to wait patiently till the morrov 
and was revolving in my mind how I should wear out tl# 



256 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Ai* •r.ci-.ient A prize. 



time through the evening, when the cry suddenly struck 
upon ray ear, * A plank — a plank — to the boat — -lo tht 
hoa.tr 

" The inn, which I have before described, stood upon 
an eminence, and so near the noble waters of the Hudsoc 
as to overlook its course for some miles. The country 
T vhere this river takes its rise is rough and mountainous; 
and valuable chiefly on account of its lumber. Vast quan- 
tities of boards and timber are annually floated down this 
river upon rafts. Numerous saw-mills are built upon its 
tributary streams ; and nothing is more frequent than to 
see fragments of boards or planks drifting upon the surface 
of the majestic stream. A custom prevailed among those 
who resided on the banks of this river, in the neighbour- 
hood where I was then detained, of seizing and bringing 
to shore, for their own use, all the floating boards and 
spars of timber that they happened to espy. In this way 
ihey often collected in the course of the season much 
valuable lumber. 

" The cry that arrested my attention had been raised in 
consequence of the discovery of a plank slowly floating 
down the river. The little boat, fastened by means of a 
chain to a stake driven into the ground, was soon loosened, 
and navigated by the skilful hands of a lad about fourteen 
years old. It shot like an arrow from the shore, and soon 
returned freighted with the plank. No sooner had the 
young market icached the bank, than he shouted out in a 
triumphant tone, « Here is a prize f —a box is fastened to 
the plank.'' 

" I stood looking with a number of other individuals tc 
witness the skill of this young sailor, and upon hearing 
this information hastened along with them to the spot. 
The plank was immediately drawn up on the bank, and 
the cause of this outcry became manifest. A box was 
discovered fastened to the plank, which was soon liberated 
from it. This box, which was small and very tight, waf 
it first supposed to be the depository of something hig!»l-* 



TH£ MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 257 

The manuscript. 



valuable, and therefore in searching for a way of access to 
die interior, great caution was taken to do no violence to 
the treasure within. By means of a chisel the cover was 
at length removed ; when, lo ! instead of gems or gold, 
nothing was discovered but a manuscript, neatly foldeu to- 
gether, written in a close, fine hand. 

" After various speculations the wondering group came 
to the conclusion, that it was best to have the manuscript 
read, as it might reveal the spot where treasures were hid 
in the earth, or some other important secret. I was, there- 
fore, requested to act in the present instance as their clerk. 
The company drawn together by this marvellous occur- 
rence, having returned to the bar-room were now in the 
attitude of proJWnd attention; when 1 read in substance 
as follows.* 1 



258 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The reformed profligate's early life. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE MANUSCRIPT. 

u But rooted stood in manhood's hour, 
The weeds of vice without their flower, 
And yet the soil in which they grew, 
Had it been tamed when life was new, 
Had depth and vigour to bring forth 
The hardier fruits of virtuous worth." 

Scott. 

The substance of the manuscript which Mr. Colchester 
related that he read on the occasion, referred to at the close 
of the last chapter, was as follows : 

" In the fear of God, and with the full conviction that 
I am shortly to appear in his dread presence to answer for 
this and all the other acts of my life, I draw up the follow- 
ing Vr ; e* oiograpnical sketch of myself. 

" The course that I have marked out requires me to 
»»t in judgment upon my own heart, and to make the same 
full and unreserved disclosure of my conduct and character, 
is I expect the judgment will make to an assembled world. 

" I begin with my childhood — the period in which was 
laid the foundation of all my subsequent misfortunes and 
gins. My parents, when they were first married, were in 
moderate circumstances, and ranked with the middling class 
of people. But having by their industry and the blessing 
o." Providence accumulated a considerable estate, they were 
living, when I entered upon the stage of being, in ease and 
affluence. They were now extremely anxious to associate 
with people of the first rank, and resorted to numerous 
ndiculous expedients to accomplish the object of th«*» 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 259 

Early habits of deceiving, how induced. 

wishes. They were exceedingly desirous that their chil- 
dren should appear smart : and as I was an only son, every 
opportunity was seized to make me show off, and p°ss in 
point of excellence for something more than I really was. 
1 frequently heard my parents, in the presence of company, 
giving me credit for qualities and attainments which, I knew 
1 did n>t possess, but the semblance of which, as they 
cWmed them for me, I thought it necessary for me to put 
on. Thus in early life, while yet a child, I learned to de- 
ceive — learned to pass myself off for what I was not. 
This has been the source of all my subsequent difficulties. 

"I presume my parents were not conscious that they 
were deviating from the line of rectitude in the course they 
pursued. Their vanity led them to believe, that I pos- 
sessed every accomplishment. Having learned from them 
the lesson of artifice, as I grew up I began to practise it 
upon them. 

11 There were too many allurements in the midst of a 
dissipated city, not to insnare one so imperfectly fortified 
against the insidious assaults of vice as myself. My parents 
were so solicitous about my worldly reputation, that they 
would have shuddered at the thought of my indulging in 
habits of profligacy. Still my inclinations led me to this 
course, and I had never known what it was to restrain the 
wayward tendencies of my corrupt nature. H^re, there- 
fore, I found it necessary to use deception. I wanted 
money, but did not wish to have my father know the pur 
pose to which I was going to apply it. I therefore pro- 
fessed to have a great taste for literature : and when 1 
wished to make a new draft upon him for money, I could 
always invent the names of numerous new and valuable 
authors whose works I was desirous of purchasing ; and 
he was always proud in gratifying me in this passion for 
reading. The money thus obtained for the purchase of 
books I laid out in my own way. In this manner I was 
continually furnished with the means of indulging in all 
the fashionable vices of a dissipated town. 



260 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Deceit practised in social intercourse. 

" Upon the death of my parents I tame into the pos 
session of a handsome estate, with, as I supposed, a con- 
summate knowledge of men and manners. 

" I had a few general maxims, which I vainly imagined 
would guide me unerringly through the mist and mazes of 
life ; and I often used to look, down, from the imaginary 
height upon which I stood, with supercilious contempt 
upon the vulgar crowd who were pursuing the beaten track 
of sincerity and truth. Among the maxims to which I 
just alluded were the following. All men like to be pleased. 
Flattery will please all men : for all men are vain and 
susceptible of being flattered. The common courtesies 
of life do not admit of a strict adherence to truth. 

" In my intercourse with others these, were my govern- 
ing principles of action. By some little quickness of per- 
ception and versatility of character I succeeded in render- 
ing myself an agreeable companion in most circles, and thus 
gained free access to the drawing-rooms of the most ele- 
gant and polished society. Flattery was the key with 
which I undertook to unlock every heart. And so accus- 
tomed did I become to doing things for effect, that I could 
not go about the most ordinary business without having an 
under-plot. I carried this system of deception into all the 
transactions of life. I sought the heart and hand of her 
that was to be my wife, by deception. 

" Ellen B was a sweet and lovely girl. She 

knew nothing of the wiles of the world. I loved her for 
that very simplicity and artlessness that I was a stranger 
to. I knew that, if she understood my real character, she 
could not love me. I had resolved that she should be mine. 
Knowing that she had the highest regard for religion, and 
was herself a pattern of unostentatious piety, I pretended 
that a great revolution had been wrought in my views and 
feelings I learned to repress the profane oath, and put on 
the various semblances of piety. When we walked in the 
moonlight, and underneath the starry vault, I would take 
occas'on to descant upcn the beauties of creation and the 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS A3] 

Hypocritical profession of religion. Dissolute habits. Conjugal \>nkiudi.;ess. 

benevolence of the Creator. Thu3 I won my way to hei 
unsuspecting heart. She became my wife. To keep up 
the deception, and impress her with the idea that I was truly- 
religious, I even went to the sacramental table. 

" But in the retirement of the domestic life, amid the 
cares and perplexities incident to the happiesi connexion, 
the mask could not always be worn. Often would pooi 
Ellen start, and shudder with horror at discoveries she 
made. But in my better moods I attempted to soothe hei 
into forgetfulness of what she had discovered. 

" She had now become the mother of two interesting 
children. The soul of sensibility, she was all tenderness 
and affection to her husband. But ah, how ill requited was 
all her love and kindness ! So dissolute had my habits now 
become, that she could not but awake to the painful percep- 
tion of my real character. The shock was too great for 
her feeble frame, and in a few months she sunk like a 
blighted flower into the grave. 

"Time passed on, but only confirmed me in those 
principles of action which I had embraced in early life. I 
sought to repair my shattered fortune by another matrimo- 
nial connexion. I found means to inspire a young lady of 
fortune and high intellectual culture with the profoundest 
veneration for my character. Such proficiency had I made 
in the arts of deceit, and so skilfully did I wear the mask 
of hypocrisy, that years passed away before this lady, now 
my wife, had any correct views of my character. But the 
truth at length came out, and she saw that her fortune was 
entirely frittered away. Though I continued to HVa of my 
estates, and of the new investments I intended to make, my 
affairs were utterly ruined. This now became abundantly 
apparent to my wife. Utterly at a loss how to turn, or 
meet my engagements, I began to vent my ill nature in 
curses and abuses upon the companion of my bosom. At 
times I would seek forgetfulness of my troubles in beastly 
drunkenness. A total recklessness of principle came ove* 
me. All the moral sensibility that I had ever possessec 



262 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The desperate resolve. 



now became prostrated by long-continued habits of false- 
hood and profligacy. Every spark of conjugal and parental 
affection seemed extinguished. All. all was gone, save my 
ruling passion — vanity. I still wished to be esteemed. ] 
still continued to hold up my head in the world. I made 
a thousand shifts — contracted debts I never meant to pay, 
and made engagements that I never expected to keep. 1 
promised, and reiterated my promises, till promising would 
answer no longer. Matters had now arrived at a crisis 
with me. I saw I must fall. 

" In a fit of desperation I determined to abandon my 
family, and seek a home among strangers. I told my wife 
it was necessary for me to leave town a few days. Whethet 
she had any apprehensions of what was passing within my 
mind, I know not: but she immediately requested that she 
might accompany me. This request threatened to frustrate 
my whole project But then a new thought struck me, 
and I immediately consented to her proposition. I deter- 
mined to go up the North river, and as soon as we arrived 
at our place of destination, I immediately took lodgings at 
a public inn. Having done this, I did not stay to sit down, 
but told my wife it was necessary for me to hasten back to 
the steamboat to get my valise which I had left there. On 
my way to the steamboat I took passage in one of the 
northern stages, which was that moment starting, and 
hardly left the vehicle until I arrived in the neighbourhood 
of Fort Ann. I entered no dwelling at that place, but 
taking my valise under my arm, struck across the fields, 
not knowing nor caring where I went. Night-fall found 
me wandering amid the barren and mountainous tract of 
country in which one branch of the Hudson takes its 
scuice. Here at last I sat down upon a log, almost stu- 
pified with despair. It was the last of the vernal months. 
The weather was mild— !he scene wild and picturesque, 
and under other circumstances I might have passed the 
night delightfully under the excitement of buoyant and 
romantic feeling. But the soft dreams of romance had now 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 2(5tf 

The profligate's dark communing with himself. 

for ever passed away with me. I had run the giddy 
rounds of pleasure and of sin, and with the wise man I 
felt, with a bitterness that can be equalled by nothing bui 
the torments of hell, that all was vanity. 

"'What' — said I, as I sat upon a log in a secluded 
gkn amid the wild mountains of Lucerne, just as the brown 
"if evening came over — far from human habitation — no 
sounds interrupting the profound solitude of the place, save 
now and then the hoarse note of the crow from the top of 
the neighbouring hemlocks — or the rustle of a leaf, as with 
extended and sable wing he swept over my head. 

" • What is there, in this hollow-hearted world, worth 
living for ? Have I not drunk from the cup of pleasure ? 
Have I not trod the paths of honour ? And what am I now 
but a houseless — friendless outcast ! Yes ! I am a bank- 
rupt — my family are reduced to beggary ! Yes, yes, it is 
even so ! — and should I attempt to continue to walk on in 
the paths of the living world, I should be trodden under 
foot. I had rather die than be despised. O yes ! the thought 
~>f death is sweet.' 

" The sudden crackling of a decayed limb of a tree, as 
though trampled beneath a human foot, startled me from this 
Ireadful revery. I arose and looked around, to see if 1 
ov.ld discover any human form amid the gathering mists 
hi night. The words of the poet were then singularly 
applicable to my situation. 

" How those fallen leaves do rustle on the path 
With whispering noise, as if the earth around me 
Did utter secret things ! 
The distant river too, bears to mine ear 
A dismal wailing. O mysterious night ! 
Thou art not silent ; many tongues hast thou." 

" Having satisfied myself that I was alone, and tlu\» no 
human ear could drink in the sounds I uttered, I again sat 
down to renew this dark communing with myself. ! I 
shudder at the recollection of the dreadful purposes that 
were then awakened within me. The thought of self* 



64 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



The suicide arrested in his purpose. 



destruction had been embraced, and every view I took of 
the future and the past seemed to confirm me in this deter 
mination. 

" ' Yes,' said I, ' it shall be done.' 

"At this moment the idea suddenly darted across my 
mind, Are you prepared to meet God upon his judgment- 
seat ? 

11 This idea awoke me as from a guilty dream. I had 
never had leisure or disposition to bestow any serious 
thought upon the subject of religion, but viewed it as I did 
many other tilings, valuable merely as contributing to the 
advancement of some worldly plan I was desirous of accom- 
plishing. But now the thought fastened u\)on my mind — • 
what if the Bible should be true ? 

"'Then,' I exclaimed aloud, and with almost maniac 
■'age, ' then I shall surely go down to hell !' 

" ' Will it be well,' a voice seemed to whisper in my 
ear, * will it be well, then, to make the dreadful plunge 
with all thy guilt upon thee V 

" '•What guilt?'' I exclaimed, springing up in a sort of 
frantic insanity, ' what guilt P 

" Conscience, whose voice was now heard in spite of 
ill my efforts, did not long demur to tell me what guilt 
covered my soul. The iniquities of my past life rose to 
my view in the most appalling colours. The gentle form 

of Ellen B , whom my unkindness had brought to an 

early grave, seemed now to glide before me among the 
trees, and a passage of poetry which I had frequently heard 
her repeat, rushed into my mind : — 

" This sacred shade and solitude, what is it ? 
'Tis the felt presence of the Deity. 
Few are the faults we flatter, when alone. 
Vice sinks in her allurements — is ungilt — 
And looks like other objects, black by night : 
By night an atheist half believes a God. 

14 A death-like terror crept over my limbs, and my whole 
frame shook with trembling. I flung myself upon the 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 265 

Mental anguish. Tiie Prayer Book. 



ground, and groaned for very agony. I can give no idea of 
the horrors of that awful night. It seemed an actual 
foretaste of hell. I was made, in a manner in which 
no language can describe, to possess the iniquities of my 
youth. 

" When the morning dawned, I covered my eyes with 
my hands ; for I could not bear to look upon the light. 
All within me was dark and dismal. All that day and the 
next night I spent in mental anguish little short of distrac- 
tion. I neither ate, nor drank, nor slept, but thought and 
thought until my heart was ready to burst. On the second 
morning I lifted myself from the earth, and again took my 
seat upon the same log where I at first sat down. My 
valise met my eye. Without any definite purpose I began 
to undo it, and took out one article of clothing after another, 
till at length I came to a small volume, which had evidently 
been put up with much care. I took it up, and opened it. 
It was a Prayer Book. The thought instantly rose in my 
mind, How came this book among my things ? 

" ' Probably,' said I to myself, ' the hand of her that 
I have so unpardonably abused, kindly placed it here for 
my benefit.' 

" My wife was a member of the Episcopal church, an I 
would often ask me to take a Prayer Book along when 
I was starting upon a journey. I, however, never listened 
to her, as I wished to have as little to do with religion and 
religious things in my retirement as possible. I knew 
scarcely any thing in relation to this book. I was a nomi- 
nal member of a church that did not use a prescript form 
of prayer. The one or other mode of worship \vr\s a 
matter of great indifference to me. In truth, pra"er o_* 
every kind appeared ridiculous tome: for in n y heart I 
thought all religion either delusion or hypocrisy. 

" But during the last thirty-six hours my se^l had been 
pressed down with a weight of anguish and remorse, which 
nothing short of the power of an infinite God could hare 

23 



266 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The confession. The absolution. 



laid upon me. I could no longer doubt his existence, or 
his abhorrence of sin. 

" \s I carelessly opened this volume, therefore, the 
first page and passage that struck my eye, was the Gene- 
ral Confession : — 

" ' Almighty and most merciful Father, we have erred 
and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have fol- 
lowed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. 
We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left 
undone those things which we ought to have done ; and 
we have done those things which we ought not to have 
done : and there is no health in us. But thou, O Lord, 
have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. 1 

" These words, as I read on, seemed to describe my 
case so exactly, that I could not but adopt, as my own, the 
sentiments they expressed, and mentally offer up the peti- 
tions as I proceeded. It was the first time I ever truly 
looked up to God in prayer ; and the act of thus looking 
to him, seemed to lighten in some little degree the burden 
of my sorrow. 

" My eyes now became riveted upon the prayer, and I 
said to myself, ' The person who indited this must have 
felt as I feel. How exactly these expressions designate 
me ! J am truly a wandering and strayed sheep. I have 
ever followed the devices and desires of my own heart. 
I have awfully offended against God's holy laws. I have 
ever left my duty undone, and my whole life has been 
filled up with acts contrary to the will and word of God, 
and I may well exclaim — There is no health in me! 
And I fear I sha 1 die eternally.' 

" Kaving read through this prayer, I came to what is 
ttrliv * The Declaration of Absolution, or Remission 
of V W P .' This at first startled me. I had heard in early 
life, &*i the ministers of the Episcopal church claimed a 
sorl of I'h ine right, derived from the apostles, to pronounce 
f Tgiveness of sins to men. This, thought I, is absurd \ 
(or who can know the heart or forgive sins but God. I 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 267 

The rude cabin. Solitary life. 



however, determined to read and see whnt this declaration 
of absolution was. Upon a perusal, I found it nothing 
more than a condensed view of the gospel — a simple state- 
ment of the terms upon which God will pardon, and receive 
the sinner again into favour. This was the very informa- 
tion I needed. And although it did not bring peace to my 
soul, it took away some of the bitterness of despair, to 
hear, — that ' God pardoneth and absolveth all tho.,e who 
truly repent, and unfeignedly believe his holy gospel; 
that he hath promised forgiveness of sins to all those 
who, with hearty repentance and true faith, turn unto 
Aim.' 

" ■ I now became sensible that my exhausted frame could 
not long survive without sustenance. Having repacked 
my things, I began to look around to see if could find any 
means of procuring some food. I walked some miles, and 
was ready to sit down in despair, when I heard the distant 
sound of an axe. Following this sound, I at length found 
some dozen men felling timber. Their little cabin furnished 
me with something to appease my hunger, and afforded me 
lodgings for the night. The next morning I retraced my 
steps to the spot where the Almighty first revealed himself 
to me. There seemed something very dear and sacred to 
me in that spot. The thought occurred to me, of erecting 
a cabin, and spending the remainder of my days upon this 
spot. I immediately began to put this plan into execution. 
I explored the surrounding wilderness — ascertained the 
nearest settlements — and made such purchases of food, 
grain, farming and cooking utensils as I needed. My wants 
were few, — and the little money I took with me, w hich 
would have been spent in the dissipation of one night, has, 
joined with industry, supported me with all the necessaries 
of life, and is still unexhausted. In the neighbourhood 
where I reared my cabin were several vacant patches of 
earth, unoccupied by trees, which I have cultivated from 
year to year, and which have ) ielded me an ample supply 
of food. Although the nearest settlement is noi more than 



268 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The solace derived from the communion service. 



six miles from me, so secluded and unknown is my retreat, 
that for ten years, the whole period I have spent in this 
spot, I have never had a single visiter. 

" It was for many long weeks after I began to build my 
rude cabin before I found any comfort in religion. During 
ihis period, as I had no Bible, I perused the little volume I 
have spoken of frequently and attentively, and derived 
great satisfaction and benefit from it. It contains a choice 
collection of precious Scripture, and its prayers are truly 
evangelical. 

" One afternoon, as I sat in my cabin meditating upor 
my past life, and thinking over all my numerous sins, 1 
opened this Prayer Book. My eye fell upon the Confes- 
sion in the Communion Service. It seemed exactly de- 
scriptive of my state and feelings. I felt that my sins and 
wickedness were indeed manifold — that I had most griev- 
ously insulted the Divine Majesty by thought, word, and 
deed. The remembrance of my sins pressed down my 
soul like an intolerable burden, and all that I could do, as 
the tears rolled down my cheeks, was to cry — ' Have 
mercy upon me — have mercy upon me, most merciful 
Father ; for thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ's sake, for- 
give me all that is past.' There was comfort in thus 
pouring out my soul to God. But still greater comfort was 
soon to descend into my pierced and wounded heart. I 
read on as follows : — ' Hear what comfortable words our 
Saviour Christ saith unto all who truly turn unto him. 

" 4 Come unto me, all ye that travel and are heavy laden, 
and I will refresh you. 

" ' So God loved the world, that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son, to the end that all that believe in him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life. 

" ' Hear also what St. Paul saith. 

" \ This is a true saying, and worthy of all men to be 
received, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
sinneis. 1 

" Tnese words, as though they had come that moraenf 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 269 



The spiritual characte/ and value of the liturgy. 



from the mouth of God himself, in a way that I cairn* I 
explain dissipated my sorrow, and filled my soul with peace 
and joy. O how did my heart then burn with desire to 
praise and magnify that glorious grace, which could cancel 
the whole sum of my guilt ! The book was still in my 
hand, and as my eye passed along I saw this appropriate 
exhortation, 

" 'Let us give thanks unto our Lord God.' 
" And with a full soul I joined in the response, 
" * It is meet and right so to do: It is very meet, right, 
and our bounden duty, that ive should at all times, and in 
all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, Holy Father, 
Almighty Everlasting God : Therefore with Angels and 
Archangels, and with all the company of heaven, we laud 
and magnify thy glorious name; evermore praising thee 
and saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts, hea- 
ven and earth are full of thy glory : Glory be to thee, 

Lord Most Highr 

" I relate these circumstances with this minuteness, 
because I trace in this whole transaction the hand of God. 
His Spirit must have put it into the heart of my wife to 
have packed up this book with my things. And this book, 
by the blessing of God, was the chief instrument by which 

1 was plucked from the pit of damnation and despair. This 
formula of worship, unless I greatly err, has been much 
misapprehended and misunderstood in the living world. 
There is a spirituality in it which cannot be discovered, or 
felt, till the soul is taken off from sensible objects and 
fixed in intense abstraction upon God. During my long 
solitary residence in this spot, I have never found any way 
of approaching the throne of Omnipotence, that satisfied 
me so well as in its simple forms of devotion. In the 
litany especially there is a pathos and depth of feeling 
almost beyond the reach of uninspired composition. And 
I often feel while repeating the Gloria in Excelsis amid 
this solitude, that I am standing in the porch of heaven, 

23* 



270 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Ascertainment of the will of divine Providence. 

ir.iid have caught the echo of that angelic worship that goeth 
up around the throne. 

" I have spent ten years in this lonely glen, having for 
my chief employment the service of God. In a way, un- 
necessary to explain, I heard at an early date that provision 
had been made for the comfortable support of my wife and 
children. That I am still in the land of the living is un- 
known to them. If it be God's will, I am content to re- 
main here till my course is finished ; and to lay my bones 
in this sweet valley where 1 first found happiness. 

44 Although there are some reasons that would lead me 
to wish to return to the living world, yet when I reflect 
upon the character of that world — when I remember what 
I was when I mingled with it, and when I consider the 
deleterious influences that are constantly emanating from 
it, I shudder, and shrink from the thought of entering again 
upon that fearful arena of danger and death. 

" Still that my life is continued, and my strength pre- 
served, seems to be a divine intimation that I have some- 
thing to do. I have sought the divine direction ; and 
resolved to abide by the decision of Providence. If this 
manuscript ever comes to light, which I now commit to 
the waters of the Hudson, and search is made for me, I 
shall deem it my duty to leave this retreat, and again revisit 
the living world, relying upon the power of my Redeemer. 
But, if this perishes in those waters, I shall conclude that 
it is the will of Heaven that my bones should sleep in this 
glen till the re:urrection morn." 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 271 

Bar-room conversation. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE SEQUEL. 

" Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee, 
Wretched wanderer far astray ; 
Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee 
From the paths of death away." 

Mr. Colchester, having thus given us this very singu- 
lar account, proceeded as follows, with a sketch of his own 
religious history. 

" The narrative of the reformed profligate was listened 
to with profound attention. So singular and striking were 
the facts rehearsed, that for several minutes after I laid 
down the manuscript, every individual in this rustic* 
audience kept his station and remained silent, as though 
waiting to hear what his neighbour should first say. 

" ' Well, that's a marvellous story,' at length said the 
landlord, hitching his chair forward, first on one side and 
then the other. 

" • Poh ! I thought we were go'n to hear about where 
some treasures were hid,' said a rough and ragged looking 
fellow, who stood leaning over a chair, and whose name, as 
it afterwards appeared, was Wager. 

" ' Yes,' said his neighbour, who sat in the chair over 
which he was leaning; 'I'd give more for a li'tle chink 
than a thousand such stories.' 

" * This story has told us where treasures are hid,' 
replied a plain, but clever looking man, sitting on the other 
side of the room. ' It says that treasures are hid in the 
Prayer Book. And this is what my good old mother used 



272 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Impression upon Mr. Colchester's mind. 

to say. And I believe she has gone to heaven. She used 
to say that this was a precious book, and in her opinion 
next to the Bible.' 

" ' Poh ! for such treasures, friend Hamar,' vociferated 
Wager ; ' that 'are Praying Book may do for old gran- 
nies, and crazy hermits, and such like — but let me have a 
little of the paying treasure.' 

" ' I suppose you'd think the pearl of great price wasn't 
worth picking up if you should find it in the street,' said 
Mr. Hamar, with some warmth : but the remark was evi- 
dently lost upon the obtuse mind of his neighbour. 

" ' They are the Episcopals,' said a thin old looking 
man, drawing his chair near to Mr. Hamar ; * they are 
the Episcopals, a'nt they, who have the Prayer Book V 

Vt ' Episcopalians,' replied Mr. Hamar. 

" * I have heard tell,' said he, ' that that order of folks 
have got a meeting house in P .' 

" Upon this Wager started up, and said, 

*• * Well, friend Hamar, if you're a mind to, I'll go with 

you next Sunday to P , to see how they carry on 

With this wonderful Prayer Book, that this hermit tells 
about.' 

" Just at this moment, the landlord told me that my bed 
was revdy, and as I had no desire to remain to hear this 
gossip, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity to retire, 
and be by myself. 

"The story in The Manuscript had awakened in my 
mind a train of thoughts of the most serious character : I 
longed to be alone that I might commune with my own 
heart. The thought which was uppermost in my mind 
was, that there is something in religion which I am a 
sticiiger to, and while a stranger to it, I am unfit to die. 
My thoughts all that night, while asleep and awake, vere 
upon the hermit in the forest of Lucerne. I could sen the 
old man amid those wild solitudes on his bended knees 
pouring out his soul in prayer to God. He was seldom 
from my thoughts during the next two days. Having per- 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 273 

The services of a village cliurch. The aged minister. 



formed something of a circuit, I had returned by the third 

morning to the village of P , which was only a few 

miles distant from the inn, the scene of the adventure I 
have just related. It was Sunday, and 1 determined to go 
to the house of God. The remark that I heard in the inn. 
then occurred to me, that there was an Episcopal church ic 
this place. Upon inquiry I found this to be the fact ; anc' 
I therefore immediately repaired to that house of worship 
I had but just taken my seat, when the service commenced 
Every thing appeared new and strange to me. There wa 
something peculiar in the worship that was offered up 
around me. I do not allude so much to its being a form ; 
for as for that matter I had always been accustomed to a 
form. The worthy old Baptist clergyman, under whose 
ministry I was brought up, as far as I had any religious 
bringing up, and who I believe was truly a pious man, and 
one who wished to promote the salvation of sinners, though 
he often used to denounce forms, and formularies of wor- 
ship, invariably introduced into his prayers the same ideas, 
put up the same petitions, and usually addressed the throne 
of grace, with a few slight variations, in precisely the 
same words. It was not, therefore, the form that struck 
me as singular, so much as the peculiar character of this 
worship. It differed from all other modes of worship that 
I had ever witnessed. I had been accustomed to hear the 
minister conduct the worship entirely by himself. But 
here the people had a part to perform. It appeared to me 
to be emphatically and eminently ajoi)it and social worship. 
" When the minister took his station in the pulpit, my 
attention, which had previously been intensely fixed upon 
the service, was directed more particularly to the preacher. 
His appearance was truly venerable. Age had stamped his 
signet upon his wrinkled brow, and whitened locks, and 
stooping form. His whole appearance gave to the hearef 
the impression that he was indeed standing on the verge 
of eternity, and in view of the judgment bar. The pas- 
sage upon which he discoursed was taken fn Job xxxiit 



274 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



An abstract of a sermon. 



14. For God speaketh once, yea twice, and man per* 
crivcth it not. 

" The general scope of the discourse went to show the 
various ways in which God speaks to men, the purpose for 
which he speaks, and the manner in which his communica- 
tions are received. 

*' Under the first head he remarked, 

u *'-l. That God speaks through the works of nature. 
That every mountain and glen — every rock and grain of 
sand — every tree and flower, had a tongue to tell us of the 
power and wisdom of God. That every twinkling star 
in the vault of heaven had a \ oice full of instruction, if we 
would but attend to it. 

" ' 2. Jehovah speaks through his providence. All the 
blessings and ills of life — sickness and health — death and 
bereavement, each one of these comes as the messenger of 
the Most High, to announce some lesson of instruction. 

" ' 3. God speaks through his word and ministers. 

" Under the second head he remarked, 

" * That the grand purpose of all this speaking was 
to make men wise and happy. 1 

" While contemplating the last consideration, the man- 
ner in which God's communications are received, he be- 
came warm with his subject, and spoke with an energy 
that riveted every eye upon him. 

" * God hath spoken,' said this venerable patriarch, as he 
stood before his people with silver locks, and a countenance 
lightened up with almost unearthly animation, and from 
which beamed affection and love ; ' God hath spoken once, 
yea, twice — may I not rather say a thousand times, to you 
my hearers, through the unworthy ambassador that now 
stands before you ? But these weakened joints — this feeble 
frame, and this trembling voice admonish me, that he will 
speak to you through this medium but a few times more. 
My work is almost done. I am well aware that I shall 
soon be called to give an account of the souls committed to 
my care. And what shall I say to the Judge eternal ? 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 275 

Affecting appeal of an aged minister. 

" * O, I shall have to tell him that I spoke to you in his 
name for more than twenty years, and yet,' — here the big 
tear rolled down his aged and withered cheek, ' and yet 
ye perceived it not. Ye heard not — ye obeyed not the 
voice of God. 

" ' To-day the Son of God, the memorials of whose bro- 
ken and bleeding body are to be offered to your acceptance, 
speaks to you as from the cross, Come unto me, and re~ 
ceive the gift of eternal life. I say the Son of God is 
this day speaking to every individual in this house. I 
hear his voice issuing from that altar, Do this in remem- 
brance of me. But O ! how many there are in this assem- 
bly that do not perceive, do not hear this voice ! There 
will come a time, however, when even the impenitent will 
perceive that God speaks. When the Judge takes his seat 
in the clouds — and the earth and the sea trembling beneath 
the blast of the archangel's trump, shall surrender their 
sleeping dead — and the elements shall melt with fervent 
heat — and Jesus, the Judge of all, shall say to each trem- 
bling, guilty soul, Give an account of thy stewardship, 
then the scoffing, careless, stupid sinner will perceive, in 
those startling accents, the voice of an omnipotent God.' 

" I had taken a seat in the gallery, and from my situation 
could not only have a full view of the preacher, but could 
observe the effect produced upon the audience by this dis- 
course. My eye this moment happened to rest upon two 
countenances that I thought I had seen before. For a mo- 
ment I could not recall the place where I had met them, 
but I soon recognised in them two of my auditors at the 
/in, Wager and Hamar. 

" Wager's countenance at this moi:.ci:t had lost all that 
reckless, swaggering air, which usually characterized it, 
and from its risen and rigid muscles plainly indicated that 
deep and uncommon feeling had been roused within. 

" But my mind was too much occupied with its own 
reflections, to bestow many thoughts upon the objects or 
beings around me. The voice of conscience seemed thus 



♦76 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

i • i . . . — — » i 

Convictions of sin— how deepened. 

to whisper in my ear, God hath spoken to thee once, yea 
twice, in the history of the ' reformed profligate ;' now he 
hath spoken to thee again by the mouth of his servant, and 
if thou art disobedient to the heavenly voice, what security 
hast thou that thy damnation will not shortly be sealed for 
ever ? I felt that this was indeed a solemn appeal ; and I 
solemnly promised that I would from that moment begin 
to seek the salvation of my soul. 

" The communion was to be administered, and I re- 
mained, as well as most of the congregation, to witness 
that solemn service. The parts alluded to in the manu- 
script struck me with great force. 

" And when in the conclusion, all arose to ascribe glory 
to God on high, I could not but think of the remark there 
made, It seemed as though I was standing in the porch 
of heaven, and had caught the echo of that angelic wor- 
ship that goeth uj) around the throne. 

" That petitionary part, which, while it rose in triumph- 
ant strains, still invoked mercy, O Lord God, Lamb of 
God, Son of the Father, that takest away the sins of the 
world, have mercy upon us : Thou that takest away the 
sins of the world, have mercy upon us : — this part sent a 
thrill through my soul which no language can describe. 
4 O !' said I to myself, ' that these voices would never 
cease : that I might stand here from day to day, and hear 
the voice of these worshippers thus ascend on high.' 

" I left the church with a troubled mind. Just as I was 
descending the door-steps, wrapped in my own reflections, 
I felt some one touching my arm. I looked around, and 
recognised my acquaintance Wager. His appearance was 
far less repulsive than when I first met him at the inn. 
His countenance was unusually sedate, as he thus ad- 
dressed me : — 

" ' Well, squire,' such was the appellation with which he 
accosted me, ' this 'ere is a very solemn meeting to go to.' 

" 'I hope we shall all derive benefit from what we have 
heard,' said I. 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 271 

Self-communion. Means of grace. 



" * Yes, yes,' said he, * I like it so well, I guess I shall 
oome again, though I have four miles to travel over a bad 
road, and that on my own feet.' 

" Bidding him good morning, I went to my lodgings to 
commune with my own heart. I there resolved, on my 
knees, to seek first of all, the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness. I did not forget this determination. Hav 
ing completed my tour, I entered upon the use of a steady 
and systematic course of means ; such as daily prayer, 
self-examination, and reading the Scriptures. These 
means were speedily blessed to me, and my mind settled 
in firm and tranquil reliance upon the promises of God 
through Christ. My attention, as you may well imagine, 
was directed at an early period to an examination of the 
doctrines of the Episcopal church. This examination led 
to the discovery of a striking agreement between this 
church and the primitive church, in its ministry, doctrines, 
and worship. From convictions of duty, I therefore at- 
tached myself to this communion. And ten years' use of 
the liturgy has confirmed me in my first impressions, that 
no uninspired book that I ever read, is imbued with so 
deep a spirit of piety and devotion as the Book of Com- 
mon Prayer" 



94 



278 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



Accident 



CHAPTER VIII. 

PROVIDENTIAL DEV ELOPEMENT. 

" Though all seems lost, 'tis impious to despair ; 
The trades of Providence like rivers wind." 

Mr. Colchester had still several incidents to relate by 
way of illustrating what had gone before ; and he, there 
fore, continued his remarks, as follows : — 

** The third summer had robed the earth in all the rich 
luxuriance of vegetable life, before I again had occasion to 
pass through that section of country, in which lay the 
scene of the occurrences that I have just described. 

** I had undertaken to make this tour in a one-horse 
vehicle, and as I approached the vicinity of the village of 
P , the surrounding country called up many associa- 
tions, and trains of thought full of interest and solemnity. 
It was just at the close of a warm summer's day. The 
heat had begun to decline, and the freshness of evening to 
breathe upon me. I was descending a hill, almost lost in 
my own meditations, and paying very little attention to my 
horse, when one of the wheels of my carriage suddenly 
came off. The horse too.; fright, and dashed forward 
with the fleetness of the wind. I was scarcely conscious 
of any thing, till I found myself sitting on the ground, and 
saw an old gentleman running towards me with apparent 
perturbation and concern. 

" ' I hope,' said he, almost out of breath, * I hope you 
are not seriously injured !' 

" * I think I an not,' said I, making an effort to rise. 

" * It is of the Lord's goodnens,' said he, extending his 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 270 

The escape. Country scene. 



hand to assist me, ' that you are alive. When I saw the 
horse descending the hill with such fury, I thought you 
must have inevitably been dashed to pieces. If you feel 
able to walk to the house, we will do every thing in our 
power to make you comfortable, and prevent any serious 
effects resulting from this disaster.' 

" While thanking him for his kindness, two or three 
labouring men came up. He ordered them to see to the 
horse, and collect the fractured pieces of the wagon, and 
then told me to lean upon his arm, and that of one of the 
workmen, and thus we went towards his house. It stood 
some forty or fifty rods back from the road, and was ap- 
proached by a lane or avenue. I soon found that I could 
walk without difficulty, and that I had escaped without 
broken bones. I was met at the door by the female part 
of the family, with countenances full of sympathy and con- 
cern : and all the kindness and attention which the unfor- 
tunate man that fell among thieves, received from the hands 
of the good Samaritan, were promptly extended to me. 

" Taking my seat in the door, where I could inhale the 
fresh air, my mind soon settled down into a peaceful and 
collected frame. The providential escape I had made very 
naturally lifted up my thoughts in grateful acknowledgment 
to that almighty Preserver, who had just saved my life 
from destruction, and without whose knowledge and per- 
mission not a sparrow falleth to the ground. 

" The scene around me was calculated to inspire calm 
•ind serious feelings. Mr. Sinclair's residence — such was 
the name of the family under whose hospitable roof I was 
sitting — was a plain substantial farmhouse, situated at the 
foot of a range of hills, extending north and south. On 
the east side of the house, an expanded valley spread out 
in all the beauty of a rich and diversified landscape. It 
was traversed in the centre by a winding rivukt, and 
covered through its whole extent with the various and 
exuberant productions of a fertile soil. 

" Immediately before the house was a large corn-field — 



ZSO GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Domestic arrangements. 

an object by no means uninteresting to the eye that li ves 
to gaze upon the wonderful works of God. And while 
sitting in this contemplative mood, there came upon my 
ear those rural sounds which exhilarate the spirit ana fill 
the soul with peace. 

" There was one thing that particularly pleased me in re- 
lation to this family. I found before retiring for the night, 
the protection of God was invoked. I always feel inte- 
rested in every place where there is an altar to the Lord. 

" The next morning I found it would require most of the 
day to get my wagon again in a state of repair ; and, as I was 
warmly solicited by the family to remain a few days with 
them, my business not being urgent, I made up my mind 
to avail myself of their polite invitation, and not renew my 
journey until 1 had entirely recovered from the effects of 
the jar I had received in being thrown from the wagon. 
I could not but feel myself quite at home in the bosom of 
this kind and hospitable family. Their conversation and 
intercourse evinced a knowledge of the world and a degree 
of refinement which showed that they had not always been 
accustomed to this retired mode of life. Still they all 
seemed to engage in the respective duties of the kitchen 
and the field, with the alacrity and cheerfulness of those 
who find satisfaction and pleasure in discharging, to the 
best of their ability, the duties connected with the* station 
that Providence has assigned them. 

"There was something in the conversation and kin l- 
hearted hospitality of Mr. Sinclair, that made me unwilling 
to leave his roof. He was truly a pious and benevolent 
man. The spirit of the gospel seemed to animate and in- 
fluence all that he said and did. In the domestic arrange- 
ments and regulations of the family, I found much to ad- 
mire. Morning and evening devotion was conducted under 
this roof in a manner that showed, that with them it was 
aot a mere matter of form, but that God was worshipped 
'n spirit and truth. Family prayers were not put ofF tr 3 
jrery late hour in the evening, when the younger members 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. 281 

Family prayer 



of the household were in bed, and those who remained up, 
so near being asleep, that the evening oblation was a 
urowsy, tedious task. But the family were assembled at 
an early hour, when the faculties of all were still fresh and 
active ; and none were permitted to retire until God's pro 
tection had been invoked, and his great name honoured 
with suitable adoration. So also in the morning, whatever 
might be the engagements within and without doors, the 
family were regularly convened for prayer. 

"I have known some Christians, who were uniform in 
their evening devotions, to excuse themselves from offering 
the morning oblation on account of the want of time and 
their anxiety to get to their business at an early houi. O 
that such Christians had more of the spirit of their hea- 
venly Master ! He could rise up a great while befoi e day 
for prayer. What a rebuke is this upon the indolence, 
and sloth, and impiety of those who frame such miserable 
pretexts to excuse themselves from one of the most de- 
lightful and heavenly duties in which the Christian is per- 
mitted to engage ! How can that man love his family, 
who can leave them morning after morning without assem- 
bling them around the family altar, to commend them to 
the Most High, and implore his blessing upon them! 
And how stupid and preposterous is the supposition that 
the time spent in prayer is lost ! as though our business 
could prosper without the aid of Heaven ! 

" Mr. Sinclair thought the time spent in family prayei 
the best employed of any during the day, even in a seculai 
point of view. And it is undoubtedly true, that when the 
first-fruits of the day are consecrated to God, the remain- 
der will be more likely to be spent in a way to advance 
our worldly as well as spiritual interests. Acting upon 
this principle, and also with a view to their eternal well- 
being, Mr. Sinclair had all his workmei and domestics 
called in at the hour of prayer. Upon this point he was 
very strict. A little occurrence which I was privy to 
during my stay with them, will illustrate this remark. 
24* 



282 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



A father's gentle rebuke. 



" Julia Sinclair, the youngest daughter, a girl of about 
fourteen, one morning did not come down early enough to 
be present at family worship. In the course of the morn- 
ing, while her father was engaged in the garden, Julia 
went out to spend a few moments in weeding a flower bed. 
The window of the room I occupied opened immediately 
into the garden, and I was so near that I could distinctly 
hear the conversation that passed. 

" ' Corne here, my daughter,' said Mr. Sinclair: * ser 
what a beautiful flower is growing here. How delicate 
the texture — how rich the colours — how exquisitely are 
they laid on ! What pencil but that dipt in uncreated light 
can paint like this ! Then consider the ten thousand invi- 
sible ducts and channels through which the moisture is 
absorbed, the air inhaled, and the juices conveyed through 
every segment of this flower. How curious, and compli- 
cated, and wonderful its vascular system ! The same 
Being who looks upon this little flower, and moves the 
subtile lymph through its unseen capillary tubes, looks 
through all the amplitudes of infinity, guides the stars in 
their courses, and upholds all worlds ! Do you not think, 
my dear, that this glorious Being ought to be regarded with 
the highest reverence and respect?' 

" ' Certainly, my dear father,' replied Julia. 

44 ' Well, my child, if Mr. , the governor, should 

send me word to-day, that he would favour us with a call 
to-morrow at a certain hour, do you not think it would be 
treating him with great disrespect, if we were not at home 
to receive him at the appointed hour V 

44 * Certainly,' answered the daughter ; ' and I do not 
think that we could be guilty of so great a piece of rude- 
ness.' 

44 4 And yet, my daughter, I did not see you this morn- 
ing, at prayers, when the great Eternal, who painted this 
flower, and has stamped his glory upon the tablet of the 
skies, met us. And was this treating the morning visit of 
your Creator and almighty Preserver with respect ?' 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. *?8'J 

Penitence. The manuscript. 



" All this was spoken with the tenderness of a fond and 
affectionate father. Julia could not say a word. Her head 
drooped upon her shoulder, and the tesrs gushed down her 
cheeks. At length she flung her arms around the neck of 
her venerable father, and half-choked with emotion, faintly 
articulated, ' Do forgive me. 9 

" ' God is the Being, my child,' said the old man, evi- 
dently touched with the sensibility evinced by his daughter, 
4 against whom the offence was committed. If you are 
truly penitent, and apply to his pardoning mercy, with 
sincere purposes of amendment, he will doubtless blot out 
this sin from the book of his remembrance. But be sure, 
never to repeat it again.' 

" From the prayers that were used in the family, and 
certain expressions that were incidentally dropped, I was 
fully persuaded, that the people with whom I. was staying 
were conversant with the Episcopal form of worship, and 
were probably members of the Episcopal church. The 
evening before I left, the conversation turned upon the 
peculiarities of the different denominations of Christians, 
and I then became assured that I had judged correctly in 
relation to the religious sentiments of this family. As the 
conversation proceeded, I was unconsciously drawn into a 
::arration of the circumstances which I have related to you 
<-.s evening. When I came to the circumstance of The 
Manuscript, I perceived that Mr. Sinclair appeared some- 
vhat agitated, and before I finished the narrative Mrs. Sin- 
clair seemed affected in a manner, and to a degree, for 
which I could not account. 

" The next morning, having taken an affectionate have 
of the family, Mr. Sinclair begged me to permit him tc 
walk on a little way with me, until the wagon, which was 
then harnessing, should overtake us. To this proposition 
[ very cheerfully acceded. As soor as we reached tne 
road, 

" « I cannot let you depart,' said my venerable hosi, 

without apprizing you that he who now addresses you* 



284 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Singular disclosure. The reflections of a recluse. The result. 



and who in this section of the country is called Sinclair 
is "the Reformed Profligate" "the Hermit of Lucerne,' 
who penned The Manuscript, the contents of which you 
so feelingly related last evening. 

" * After writing that manuscript, I daily became more 
and more convinced, that as a Christian I could not dis- 
charge my duty without again entering the living world. I 
could not but remember that I had a family — and that no 
act of mine could release me from the obligations resting 
upon me as a father and a husband. The law of Christianity 
hound me to look after them and provide for them. 

". * Again, 1 remembered that Christ had instituted certain 
ordinances and sacraments for the spiritual nourishment and 
edification of his followers. These sacraments and ordi- 
nances were committed to and connected with his church. 
While remaining in a state of voluntary exile from the liv- 
ing world, I felt that I was voluntarily depriving myself of a 
powerful means of grace — refusing to honour Christ in the 
observance of his holy institutions — and actually declining 
to bear testimony to the power of that grace which had 
plucked my feet from the paths of death, and given me an 
inheritance among them which are sanctified. 

" ' Influenced by these considerations, I left my seclu- 
sion, and sought out my family. Divine Providence opened 
a way for the purchase of this farm. And here we now 
live in sweet retirement. Our former history being ur- 
known to our neighbours, we often have it in our power to 
minister to their spiritual necessities. We are perfectly 
contented with the allotment of Providence — and have no 
desire to know or be known in the gay and fashionable 
world. 

" ' For myself, I can truly say, that I feel that God has 
shown the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness 
towards me through Christ Jesus. A.nd I hope that the 
evening of my days will be spent in his service, and to his 
glory : and I hope, sir, that I shall be remembered in youi 
prayers, that I may redeem the time, and le found ready 



THE MEETING OF THE TRAVELLERS. *235 

A funeral scene. 

with my amp trimmed and burning, and all my hopes in 
Christ, when the summons arrives which will speedily call 
me into the presence of the Judge.' 

" The wagon had now come up. And we again took 
leave of each other. As I turned to catch a last look of the 
stooping form of this aged and redeemed servant of the 
Lord, my mind was naturally led to dwell upon the manner 
in which Divine Providence had dealt with him, and the 
influence which his history had had in bringing me to a 
knowledge of the truth : and I could not but exclaim, « O 
the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the know- 
ledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and 
his ways past finding out.' 

44 As I approached the village of P , I perceived a 

funeral procession just entering the burial ground, which 
was a little out of the village, in a sweet retired spot. As 
the road passed along on one side of this resting place of 
the dead, I reined up my horse to the fence, and remained 
to see the last office of respect paid to one who had for 
ever closed his eyes upon earthly scenes. I soon discovered 
that the deceased was an adult person, and that his death 
was keenly felt by many that mingled in the crowd. 

44 The funeral service was read with evident feeling and 
deep emotion. And I thought its words never fell with 
deeper solemnity upon my ear. The grave at last was 
covered. The multitude began to retire and disperse. 
Near where I sat, a horse was tied to the fence. 

44 A stout looking person now approached this horse, and 
began to unfasten him. I perceived that he was deeply 
affected : for several times while undoing the halter, he 
raised his arm to his face to brush away the tears that were 
coursing down his cheeks. 

" CVh o'i tell me,' said I, addressing myself to this 
ririr., ; vvf ->se remains have just been interred?' 

v - ' »'», i'. is our minister!' said he, with much emotion, 
1 it irf car minister ! — Good old man, he has gone to his 
reward.' 



286 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The conclusion. 

" 4 Ah,' said I, ' I have no doubt he has, as b >*as faith- 
ful, I trust, while he was with you.' 

444 Yes, yes, that he was,' said the man, w) u appeared 
to find relief in descanting upon the excellencies of his 
departed shepherd. 'All have reason to remember Mr. 

with affection, but none more than I. It is only a 

little more than two years since I first saw him. But by 
the mercy of God, since that time my eyes have been 
opened — and I have seen what a cast-away I was, and what 
a merciful Saviour there is to go to ; and all this is chiefly 
owing- t» Mr. 's plain preaching.' 

44 1 this moment recognised in the speaker my old ac- 
quaintance Wager, who had indeed become an altered and 
new man : and had now learned — as he told me with his 
own lips, to esteem the Prayer Book as much as he once 
despised it." 

The incidents already related furnish abundant proof 
that there is much to interest the observant traveller in the 
daily occurrences with which he meets. And even when 
he finds every thing around him repulsive — when he finds 
every thin*; in the road and weather discouraging, and 
every thing in the inn abhorrent to his feelings, he can 
still find profitable material for thought, as one did who 
said, — 

" The world is like an inn ; for there 

Men call, and storm, and drink, and swear ; 

While undisturb'd a Christian waits, 

And reads, and writes, and meditates. 

Though in the dark ofttimes I stray, 

The Lord shall light me on my way, 

And to the city of the sun, 

Conduct me, when my journey's done." 

Having illustrated the position with which I set out, 1 
will no longer detain the reader, but simply ask him to 
cherish in his memory whatever he deems valuable in the 
conversation that occurred on the occasion of the meeting 

OF THE TRAVELLERS. 



MARY MAYWOOD, 



CHAPTER I. 

DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 

The least is greatest ; and who shall 
Appear the greatest are the least of all. 

Quahi-es. 

It is a striking peculiarity in the lessons of wisdom taught 
by the Son of God — a peculiarity essentially interwoven 
with every precept he delivered, that He that humlieth 
himself shall be exalted. The lower we keep in the vale 
of humility, the higher we shall rise in the regard of the 
high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, lie promises 
to take up his abode only with the humble and contrite 
ones. This direct thrust which the gospel makes at the 
pride of the human heart, bespeaks its high, and holy, 
and heavenly character. It is no small commendation to 
the religion of the cross, that it requires every human 
being, whether young or old, high or low, rich or poor, 
learned or unlearned, to humble himself before God, and 
commence the foundation of Christian character upon lowly 
and self-abased views respecting any personal or native 
moral excellence which he possesses. The true Christian 
character is invariably built on a deep and heartfelt ac- 

287 



288 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The wisdom and benignity of the gospel. 

knowledgment, not unlike that of the afflicted patriarch ; 
Behold I am vile: what shall I answer thee ? I will lay 
my hand upon my mouth. ' / have heard of thee by the 
hearing of the ear ; but now mine eye seeth thee. Where- 
fore 1 abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes. 1 This 
humility, which the gospel, wherever it is truly received, 
uniformly awakens, is one of its striking excellencies. 

Another singular excellence in the religion of Christ is, 
that while it disclaims all interference wilh the organization 
or constitution of civil society, leaving every community 
and nation to settle in their own way the particular form 
of civil government under which they choose to live, it at 
the same time, by the heavenly influence it exerts, and the 
kindred and assimilating spirit it awakens, throws such a 
softened and benign aspect over the several otherwise 
odious attitudes in which different classes and ranks stand 
in relation to each other, that to the Christian eye the whole 
human race appears like one great, happy, and well-regu- 
lated family. As things are constituted in this world, there 
must be different employments and occupations ; and, 
therefore, there must be different ranks and grades in 
society. There must be the employer and the employed, 
the householder and the servant. By this arrangement tho 
well-being and happiness of all are augmented and secured 
Nothing is more remote from the truth, than the supposi 
tion, that the happiness of those who by the allotment of 
Providence are obliged to procure their livelihood by acting 
in the capacity of domestics or servants, is promoted by 
cherishing a spirit of insubordination, peevishness, or dis- 
content — or by evincing a disposition to require a degree 
of deference and respect, to which neither their characters 
nor their station entitle them. I know perfectly well, that 
every situation has its trials. The servant undoubtedly has 
a thousand painful conflicts of feeling known only to those 
in that humble station. The Saviour of men, however, car. 
he touched with the feeling of their infirmities, for it was 
•■ me form of a servant" which he assumed when he came 



MARY MAYWOOD. 289 

The influence of the gospel. 

to redeem our ruined world. The religion of Christ meets 
every difficulty, and sheds rays of brightness over every 
relation in life. This religion, by imparting to the master 
and the servant the same divine principle, constitutes them 
"fellow-heirs" — and " of the same body," and partakers 
of the same promise in Christ, and therefore unites them by 
a heavenly and immortal relation — a relation which endears 
them to each other infinitely more than any of the artificial 
or temporary ties of society. Thus connected, living under 
the same roof — meeting daily around the same family altar, 
the cheerfulness, promptitude, and satisfaction with which 
the servant performs the duties of his station, and the kind 
and affectionate treatment which the master uniformly and 
almost unconsciously extends to him, show that their 
hearts have been knit together by a more than earthly tie ; 
and that their happiness is not in the slightest degree im- 
paired by the difference in their stations. 

The servant whose mind has been brought under the abid- 
ing influence of "pure and undefiled religion," can enjoy 
himself, and be useful in the service of families that know 
not the blessings that flow from a union with God. He 
can and must do his duty in that state of life in which God 
hath placed him. Having done his duty, he will have 
peace within — a peace which the world cannot give, and 
which wicked men cannot take away. The Christian ser- 
vant, convinced that the casting o( his lot was from God, 
will make no vain or foolish efforts to rise above his sta- 
tion, but seek to perform his duty in it with a contented 
mind. And acting thus, his happiness will be greatly aug- 
mented. Often is it the case, that the humble servant, that 
waits at the table, or performs the menial offices of the 
kitchen in some lordly mansion, is infinitely happier than 
the wealthy and honoured possessor of that mansion, and 
will, when the awards of the last day are settled, take a 
higher seat among those who are favoured with a place 
around the throne of the Lamb. These remarks have been 
suggested by the incidents contained in the following nar 

25 



290 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The influence of a single domestic. 

rative, which came into my hands a number \)f years since, 
and from a source which entitles the statements to the high- 
est confidence. The reader must regard the person who 
communicated the facts — not the author — as speaking, in all 
that follows to the end of the narrative. 



A few years since I was spending two or tl i *. we^ks in 
Mr. Wilson's family, who were at the time residin/r in 

P . They were indeed most kind and hospitable ] eo- 

ple, and did every thing to make my temporary resider oe 
with them delightful. My attention, at a very early period, 
was drawn to the admirable and well-regulated arrange 
ment that pervaded the entire establishment. The whole 
system of domestic operations seemed to go on with th*. 
stillness, order, and effect of a well-contrived and we l l 
worked machine. The meals were brought to the table si 
the appointed hour. There never was the least indication 
of hurry or bustle — but every thing appeared to be dop<e 
" decently and in order." Yet in this establishment the 
domestics Avere not numerous. Each one had his whoJv 
time occupied. 

I have ever felt a deep interest in the welfare of servants 
My attention, therefore, was particularly directed to thos« 
attached to this household. I soon perceived that an in? 
portant agent in all these well conducted operations, was a 
female servant, whom they called Mary. I afterward* 
learnt that her name was Mary Maywood. She wa? at 
this time about thirty-five years old. Her appropriate office 
was that of cook ; but as her object was to render herseli 
uselul, when her services were not needed in that capacit) 
she waited at the table, or readily turned her hand to an- 
business that required immediate attention. The first thing 
which particularly attracted my notice was, the uniform 
neatness of her person — the simplicity of her dress — the 
unvarying cheerfulness of her looks, and the kind, pleasant 



MARY MAYWOOD. 291 



An irascible man. 



and respectful manner in which she invariably spoke to 
those around her. When she went to the door to answer 
to the bell, the visiter was not rep-elled by the rudeness of 
her manners, or shocked by the disgusting appearance of 
her person. This is an evil too frequently encountered at 
the door of many a worthy and estimable family ; and I 
am well persuaded, the fault is usually with the servant. 

An occurrence which happened about a week after I 
had taken up my residence in Mr. Wilson's family, in 
creased the interest I had already began to feel in Mary 
May wood. 

Mr. Wilson had a brother staying with him at this time, 
a young man naturally amiable, but of a tierce and irasci- 
ble temper, which, as I subsequently learnt, was a constitu- 
tional weakness with the family. Mary, in the discharge 
of the various duties incumbent upon her, among othei 
things had the care of his room. The morning to which 
I allude, in looking over a desk which he seldom locked, 
he discovered, as he thought, that some twenty dollars 
were missing from a pocket-book usually kept in the desk. 
Notwithstanding the well known integrity of her character, 
he formed the hasty conclusion that Mary had been acting 
the part of a thief. He came down to the breakfast table, 
therefore, in a state of high excitement. The family were 
already gathered around the table, and he took his seat in 
silence. But it was evident, from his dark knit brows, and 
flushed countenance, that a storm was raging within. Mary 
no sooner entered the room, being engaged in bringing up 
some part of the breakfast, than with the utmost abruptness, 
and with a total want of regard for those at the table, he 
began in a most violent and passionate tone to fix the charge 
of theft upon this worthy domestic. The family appeared 
horror-struck. They tried to expostulate with him, but this 
only rendered him the more irritated and vociferous. He 
said he knew that she had purloined the money — that there 
was no other way of accounting for its absence. Had any 
person out of the house taken it, he would Inve taken the 



292 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The triumph of Christian patience. 

pocket-book as well as the money. No one e had been 
to the room. 

Mary all this time stood meek and silent. ,t was evi- 
dent, however, that her feelings were deeply wounded. 
The rush of blood to her cheek, as she patiently stood, and 
bore all this tirade of abuse, bespoke the conscious inno- 
cence of hor heart. When his paroxysm of passion had 
somewhat subsided, Mary, with evident feeling, but yet in 
the most respectful manner, said, 

" Sir, to assure you of my innocence would not probably 
alter your opinion — but there is One," and as she spoke 
she raised her eyes to heaven—" there is One that knows 
that my hands are clean, and with him I must leave my 
vindication." 

Mr. Wilson requested his brother to hand him the pocket- 
book from which the money was missing. He did so. 
Upon examining the different compartments, he discovered 
the twenty dollars in a fold which had been overlooked. 
This was a moment of deep mortification to the young 
man. But Mary put on none of the insolence of triumph. 
Her manner continued unaltered : and in her subsequent 
deportment to the person who had so unfeelingly assailed 
her, there was no perceivable change. 

A short time after this, as I was one day passing the 
kitchen door, my attention became arrested by a conversa- 
tion that was going on within. As I was not perceived, 
I stopt a moment, when I heard Mary saying, 

" It is not that I wish to deprive you of any comfort, 
Ralph Hagar, that I protest against, your helping yourself 
from the store-room, but because I think it absolutely wrong 
and sinful." 

" Poh" — replied Ralph, who was a careless, good-natured 
fellow, but a stranger to those conscientious principles 
which should govern every servant, and who had just been 
helping himself to some luxuries in the pantry — " how can 
it be wrong to eat what we like ? We are to have our liv- 
ing where we do our work — this is a part of the bargain." 



MARY MAY WOOD. 



Conscientious views. 



" But," said the far more conscientious Mary, " our 
employers have a right to assign us what food they think 
proper. They always supply us with that which is good, 
and enough of it. Now, I think, to take any other food is 
breaking the eighth commandment, Thou shaft not steal. 
What they have not given us is no more ours than that 
which is in our neighbour's, Mr. Palmer's, pantry." 

" I think you are quite too squeamish, Mary," replied 
Ralph — "at this rate, you will deprive yourself of all 
comfort." 

" Nothing can give me so much comfort," was her an- 
swer, " as a clear conscience." 

" Well," said Ralph — " I have a clear conscience." 

" Ah! be careful that it is not a seared conscience," an- 
swered Mary. " And now that I am speaking on this sub- 
ject, I will just hint at one or two things which you perhaps 
do not think enough of — and one of these is, that your time, 
since Mr. Wilson pays you for it, is his, just as much as 
any thing else which he has bought with his money." 

" Well," answered Ralph, " what have you to accuse me 
of on this score ?" 

" Why," said Mary, " I think you often take much 
longer time to eat than is necessary, and when Mr. Wilson 
is absent, you frequently lie in bed till seven o'clock. Now, 
if you read your Bible more, I think you would be con- 
vinced that this was wrong." 

The door, which had been left ajar, was now closed, and 
I heard no more of the conversation. But the remarks of 
Mary, together with what I had before seen in her, so far 
.'nterested me, that I felt a great desire to be made acquainted 
with her history. Having expressed this desire to Mrs. 
Wilson, she took the earliest opportunity to put me in the 
way of receiving this information from Mary herself. 

25* 



294 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



The interview. 




CHAPTER II. 

HOW MARY WAS BROUGHT TO CHRIST. 

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul : the testimony 
of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. 

From the 19th Psalm. 

One afternoon, while I was sitting in the parlour con- 
versing with Mrs. Wilson, Mary came in. Mrs. Wilson 
immediately observed to Mary, that I wished to have some 
conversation with her, and then left the room. 

I asked Mary to sit down, and then remarked, " That I 
felt a deep interest in every soul brought under the influence 
of sanctifying grace ; but that I was constrained to look 
with intenser interest upon the washed and sanctified ser- 
vant ; inasmuch as those in that station were so frequently 
unmindful of their soul's best interest. That the purpose 
for which I wished to converse with her, therefore, was, to 
learn the manner in which her mind had been enlightened 
by divine truth." 

After a moment's hesitation, with much diffidence she 
replied in substance as follows : "lam not surprised that 
one who loves God, and knows the worth of the soul, 
should look with interest upon every instance of piety seen 
in the walks of life in which I am treading. I am well 
aware how rare those instances are. The great majority 
of servants live and act as though there were no judgment 
bar, before which they were one day to stand — no all-seeing 
God to take note of their doings. I was once among that 
number. It is owing entirely to the infinite mercy of God 
in Christ, that I am not now ranked with the thoughtless 
and impenitent. 






MARY MAYWOOD. 293 

Early habits and views of Mary. 

" My mother was a widow. Having a large family, and 
being in straitened circumstances, it became necessary for 
me to go out to service. We lived in the country, and there, 
as you know, those who work in different families are re- 
garded as help, rather than as servants. 

"I resided with a number of families, but stayed at no 
place any length of time. My besetting sin was pride. 
I had embraced the absurd idea that I was handsome, 
and uncommonly smart. I, therefore, considered myself 
far superior to ordinary girls, and expected to be treated 
in every family as a companion of the lady of the house. 
I thus got altogether above my business, and was ready to 
kindle into passion the moment any unpleasant work was 
put upon me, or I did not receive all the attention I thought 
myself entitled to. Few families, of course, wanted such 
help, and I soon lost my place. Or, if the family could 
put up with my sulky and pouting moods, I soon became 
exasperated with some occurrence, and left them of my 
own accord. 

** After leaving a place where I had been at service, I 
never thought of seeking another until compelled to by 
absolute want. I used to go to my mother's, and stay, till 
having expended all my little earnings in some finery, or 
extravagant article of dress, I was forced to make another 
experiment at service. While running this course of folly, 
* walking in a vain shadow, and disquieting myself in 
vain,' I entered Mr. Wilson's family, who were then 
residing in the neighbourhood of my mother. I had not 
been with them more than a week, before I became dissa- 
tisfied, and determined to leave them. I was ordered to 
roast a loin of veal. I placed it at the fire, and thought I 
would make an effort to have it done in such a way, that I 
should be commended for my superior skill. But in a short 
time the sound of a drum caught my ear. It was a general 
muster. I could not refrain from going out to see the 
parade : and I had the vanity to suppose that my own per- 
son might thus attract the notice of some admiring eye. I 



296 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Rash determination. Effect of kindness. 



looked, and loitered, till the veal was entirely forgotten. 
When I returned, I found it almost completely spoiled. 
My inattention drew a sharp and irritating reproof upon mc 
at dinner, from Mr. Wilson. This was enough. No mat- 
ter whether innocent or guilty, I could not bear being found 
the least fault with. My temper was immediately up. My 
pride had been deeply wounded. I Avent directly to my 
chamber, put on my hat, and collected my things together, 
determining to leave the house that very hour, thereby show- 
ing a proper spirit of resentment. But upon examination, 
I found that I had several articles of dress in the wash, 
which I could not well carry with me. I, therefore, upon 
a second thought, concluded that I would wait till the next 
morning. 

" The next morning Mr. Wilson left home to be absent 
several weeks. Immediately after his departure, Mrs. 
Wilson came down into the kitchen. I thought her manner 
unusually kind and winning. She had always treated me 
well, but at this time she seemed so affectionate that I 
could not but love her. Before she went out, she took 
from her indispensable a dress handkerchief, and asked 
me if I would accept it. I thanked her : and before the 
sound of her foot was lost upon my ear, my former deter- 
mination was altered. I resolved I would not leave the 
family during the absence of Mr. Wilson. ' But,' said I 
to myself, ' the first moment he returns I will quit his 
house for ever. He shall know that I am not to be trampled 
upon like a worm.' 

" About a week after this, a minister, the Rev. Mr. I , 

being a connexion of the family, came to Mr. Wilson's, 
and upon their earnest solicitation consented to spend a few 
weeks with them. The first evening after his arrival I 
witnessed what I never had before— family prayer. The 
families with whom I had lived had been worldly people : 
and my mother, though a kind and clever woman, was 
herself a stranger to all sense of religion. I do not 
know that I ever saw a Bible in her house after I was old 



MARY MAYWOOD. 29t 



First serious impression how made. 



enough to read or understand it : and, although I sometimes 
went to church, I never thought of attending to what was 

said. Mr. I 's prayer was very solemn, but most 

likely I should not have attended to it, had he not besought 
the blessing of God upon the absent head of the family. 
[ cherished so much resentment toward Mr. Wilson, I 
could not bear to have him prayed for. But my attention 
was soon drawn to another topic. In language, the most 

devout, solemn, and affecting, Mr. I implored God to 

pour down his blessing upon the domestics of this house- 
hold, to enlighten their minds, sanctify their hearts* and 
make them servants of Christ, and sons and daughters of 
Jehovah. I marked and remembered these words. They 
produced the first serious impression I ever felt. 1 had 
very imperfect notions of the character of God, and was 
extremely ignorant of every thing contained in the Scrip- 
tures. The prayer of this man of God was still in my 
mind. Is it possible, thought I, that this stranger takes 
any interest in me ? And yet how fervently he besought 
God to bless me. This dwelt upon my mind for some 
time, but at length I fell asleep. In the morning the im- 
pression was entirely gone. 

" Family worship, however, was now set up, and never 
omitted. In the evening Mr. I — — usually read a chapter, 
and made such practical remarks as he thought would be 
useful. For several evenings he selected such portions as 
led him to dwell upon the character, attributes, and govern- 
ment of God. My mind had become partially enlightened, 
and my heart somewhat affected by these plain, familiar 
remarks, for he spoke in a way that riveted my attention. 
When alone, I at times trembled to think that a pure and 
holy God was continually looking upon all my doings. 

" One Wednesday evening, after he had been with us 
about a week, — I shall never forget that evening — Mr. 

I read a part of the second chapter of Romans, and 

in his remarks he spoke chiefly of the purity, excellence, 
and strictness of the divine law — the impossibility of our 



298 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

__ 1 1 

The Bible your best friend. 

keeping it wholly — and the awful curse that must fall upon 
every one that does not keep it. After having concluded 
his remarks, he presented to me and each of the other ser- 
vants, a Bible, observing, that he had a number for distri- 
bution to those who were willing to receive the word of 
life — and that in each of the books he had given us, he 
had turned down leaves, and marked passages that related 
to the subject of which he had been speaking — and would 
show he had been declaring to us the word of God. He 
hoped before we slept we would look over those passages, 
and seriously consider how we stood in relation to God- 
how it would be with us, if, before the morning light, we 
opened our eyes in eternity. When he put the sacred 
volume into my hands, he said, 

" ' Mary, you will here read of a Mary who chose that 
better part which could not be taken from her. May God 
lead you to choose that part. Be well assured that this 
book is your best friend. It will teach you how to live, 
and how to die. Your eternity hangs upon the counsels it 
contains.' 

" With these words, he kneeled down to offer up the 
devotions of the family ; and among those for whom he 
petitioned the rich communications of divine grace, were 
the persons who had just been furnished with a copy of 
the word of life. I was deeply affected. I immediately 
retired to my room, and read the passages marked in my 
Bible. A new discovery was opened to my mind. In this 
mirror of divine truth, I saw myself in an entire new light. 
I had ever before thought myself very good, and entitled to 
great consideration and regard. I now saw that I was the 
vilest of sinners. I had broken every law of God, if not in 
act, yet in thought and intent. There appeared to me to be 
no way of escape. The wrath of an offended God seemed 
to kindle upon every page I read. I went to bed, but found 
there was no rest, no peace for me — I never closed my 
eyes during that whole night. The terrors of judgment 
and the indescribable horrors of a burning hell seemed ta 



MARY MAYWOOD. 299 



The workings of an awakened out unregenerate soul. 

rise continually before me. I left my bed in the morning 
exhausted by intense feeling, and filled with dejection and 
despair. Still I was too proud to allow any one to know 
how my mind had been agitated : and during the day I 
tried to throw off my serious feelings, and convince myself 
that it was all delusion. I resolved that I would not again 
be present at family prayers, and accordingly the next 
evening feigned headache, as an excuse to retire before the 
hour of devotion. But these expedients did not relieve my 
conscience from that burden of guilt which seemed bound 
to it as with cords. I still saw, still felt, that I had broken 
the law of God, and was under sentence of death. The 
Scriptures I had read, and the solemn words I had heard 

from Mr. I , seemed to dwell upon my mind, as though 

they had been written there in letters of fire. I tried to 
forget them. 1 thought of the scenes of pleasure through 
which I had passed, and thus strove to beguile my thoughts 
into another train. But the remembrance of those scenes 
no longer delighted me. They now appeared full of sin, 
and covered with guilt. I tried to sleep, but it was all in 
vain. The one all-absorbing thought was still in my mind, 
/ am a sinner against God, and my feet are going down 
to the chambers of death. The course I had taken this 
very evening now appeared to me awfully wicked. I had 
been trying to flee from the Holy Spirit. I had resorted 
to prevarication, that I might avoid being present at that 
family altar where God first met me. The thought flashed 
upon my mind, that by this last act of rebellion I had 
ruined my soul for ever. 

" I lay and thought of these things, till my mind became 
wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement. The most 
horrid images seemed to glide before me, and I felt every 
.nstant as if I was making the dreadful plunge into the burn- 
ing abyss. My mind continued in this state for a number 
}f days, and during this period, I, at times, fully believed 
that I should not live another hour. My health became 
seriously affected, and I was obliged to take to my bed. 



300 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The way of salvation. 



" 1 at length resolved to seek counsel of the Rev. Mi 

I , and to tell him of the misery into which he hat! 

plunged me. O ! 1 shall never forget the interest that lii 
up his countenance when I made this communication. I 
concluded with telling him, that I felt confident there was 
no hope for me ; that I had sinned beyond the reach of 
mercy. In the most kind and affectionate manner he re- 
plied, This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- 
tion, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. 
He then opened to my view the plan of salvation through 
infinite grace. He read to me a number of passages from 
the Bible like this — For by grace are ye saved through 
faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. 

! they were sweet passages, and while he read them, 
my burdened heart seemed to grow lighter. The way of 
salvation of which he spoke seemed entirely new. It ap- 
peared every way lovely, and exactly suited to my case. 

1 felt that it was just what I needed. And I know not how 
it was, but before he had done speaking, a peace that pass- 
eth all understanding had gently and imperceptibly come 
over my soul, and my fears and griefs were wellnigh gone. 
Being left alone, I began to think more deeply upon what 
I had heard. The more I reflected, the more I was struck 
with the beauty, excellence, and loveliness of this new way 
of salvation. It seemed so simple, so easy, so sweet to 
rest my naked soul upon the merits of a crucified Redeem- 
er — to commit myself into his hands, and depend upon his 
grace to enlighten my understanding, sanctify my heart, 
and guide my feet in the way of his commandments. I 
wondered that I had never before understood it. My 
Bible now became my constant companion, and I began 

to perceive the truth of Mr. I 's remark — that ' it was 

my best friend ' When betrayed into passion, or neg- 
lect of duty, its heavenly precepts taught me to repent^ 
and cast myself afresh upon the tender mercies of a cove- 
nant-keeping God. When suffering ill treatment from 
others, my Bible told me of a more excellent way, than to 



MARY MAY WOOD. 301 



The influence of divine grace. 



return railing for railing. And I soon found that I was 
much happier when I restrained my feelings, than when I 
gave vent to them. From my Bible I learnt the misery of 
ignorance, the worth of time, and the sinfulness of an in- 
dolent life. I had no sooner begun to reduce to practice 
what I had learnt, than I found my advantage in it. By 
rising early, and employing my leisure hours in reading, 1 
found I was much happier. Every thing seemed to go on 
better through the whole day. The family appeared better 
suited, and inclined to be more indulgent. God has greatly 
blessed me in lifting up the light of his countenance upon 
me. I have lived to see Mr. and Mrs. Wilson both brought 
into the Redeemer's fold. I feel that we belong to the 
same family. I am happy in their service. Nothing 
would tempt me to leave them. I feel a delightful assu- 
rance that neither life, nor death, nor things present, nor 
things to come, will ever separate us from each other, 01 
from the love of Christ." 



»• 



302 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

A worldling's view of Christianity. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF A CHRISTIAN TEMPER. 

The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound 
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth : so 
is every one that is born of the Spirit. 

Gospel according to St. John. 

The consistent and affecting account that Mary had given 
of the manner in which she had been led to walk in the 
ways of religion, deeply interested my feelings, and conti- 
nued to dwell on my mind with such vivid impression that 
I could not refrain from alluding to it in the hearing of Mr. 
Wilson. He appeared much affected, and after a few mo- 
ments' silence, remarked, 

" Mary has not told you all ; I will finish the narrative. 
When I returned, after the absence to which she referred, 
I found that things in my house had undergone a great 

change. Mrs. W appeared evidently altered. I had 

always respected Christianity, and considered it valuable 
chiefly as inculcating a system of pure and exalted moral- 
ity. I knew that my wife possessed, in an eminent and 
distinguished degree, all the moral virtues which adorn do- 
mestic and social life. When, therefore, upon my return, 

I was congratulated by the Rev. Mr. I upon the change 

that had occurred in the re.jgious views and feelings of 
Mrs. W , I was indignant, and hastily replied, 

" ' What change ? Why, sir, you are dreaming ! Har- 
riet has always been pious. She can be no better than she 
has been from the first day I knew her. She has ever been 
as pure as an angel. She is innocence itself.' 

44 * Far be it from me,' answered the discreet and prudent 



MARY MAYW00D. 303 



Character developed. 



Mr. I , ' to disparage, in the least, the stainless character 

of your lovely wife. But, sir, in the eye of infinite holi 
ness, the purest of our race are so defiled with guilt, that, 
agreeably to the decision of God himself, nothing can wash 
Dut those crimson stains, save the blood of his own and 
only begotten Son.' 

" This was a language which, at that time, I did not 
understand. I was sensible that a great change had taken 
place in the kitchen. Things went on there much more 
systematically, and with greater effect. Mary had evi- 
dently become more sedate, industrious, and strictly atten- 
tive to the duties of her station. 

" A short time after my return, having an appointment 
of considerable importance at eight o'clock in the morning, 
I ordered Mary to rap at my door precisely at seven, and 
have the breakfast on the table by the time I could get 
down. Accordingly, the next morning, when she knocked 
at my door, I instantly sprang out of bed, and looked at 
my watch. It wanted only a quarter of eight. Having 
hastily dressed myself, I ran down in a great passion, and 
found Mary Avaiting with the breakfast. Highly irritated, 
I said, * You are a worthless baggage, and deserve the Pe- 
nitentiary, for having so shamefully neglected my orders 
It is at this moment all of eight o'clock.' 

" In a meek and respectful manner she replied, 'I be- 
lieve, Mr. Wilson, you are mistaken. The clock wanted 
ten minutes of seven when I knocked at your door ; I was 
up at five.' 

" ' Do you pretend to contradict me,' said I, in a rage ; 
4 and to cloak over your neglect and laziness, with a lie ? 
I thought you professed to have become very pious, but I 
see through all your hypocritical pretensions.' 

" Upon this I rushed out of the room, leaving the break- 
fast untouched. All this time Mary stood with much sor- 
row depicted on her countenance, but without the least 
appearance of resentment or irritation. As I passed 
through the hall, the clock struck seven. I looked up, and 



804 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The reparation a Christian makes. 

saw the hands indicated the hour the bell announced. 
When in the street I looked at my watch — it was precisely 
where it was when I got out of bed. Raising it to my ear. 
I soon perceived that it must have stopped the evening be- 
fore. I was too proud to go back for my breakfast, al- 
though I had ample time. I was too proud to do an act 
of justice to a servant whom I had injured. At dinner I 
was surprised to find Mary just as cheerful and respectfu 
in her attention to me, as though nothing of an unpleasan 
nature had occurred. This rather provoked me, and I 
therefore resolved to try her temper. I seized upon every 
opportunity to irritate her. For a while she endured every 
indignity with becoming and truly Christian forbearance ; 
but at length her natural temper got the ascendency over 
her principles, and for a moment she spoke like the unre- 
generate Mary Maywood, in language full of irritation and 
violence. My object was now attained, and I thought no 
more of it. But in a few hours, Mary came into my room, 
and with a countenance expressive of the deepest emotions 
of sorrow and distress, said, 

" ' Sir, I have come to ask you to pardon the rash and 
improper expressions I used to you this morning. I know 
my conduct was wholly unjustifiable. I have nothing to 
say in vindication of myself only, that I am a poor, weak, 
sinful creature.' 

" This was so unexpected, and to me so unaccountable, 
that it completely unmanned me. I involuntarily burst 
into tears, and wept like a child. The guilt and iniquity 
of my past conduct rushed upon my mind, and stood be- 
fore me, revealed in a new and horrible light. I had been 
trying for weeks to wound the feelings and disturb the 
peace of a quiet and faithful domestic ; and yet all this 
time she had not shown the slightest symptom of resent- 
ment. But when at length, through the provocations that 
I had wantonly thrown in her way, she had been betrayed 
into a momentary exhibition of ill temper, she immediately 
had come with tears, and every mark of sorrow and humi 



S 



MARY MAYWOOD 305 



The change of aiind wro gii in Mr. Wilson. 



lity, to beg my forgiveness. This appeared wonderful to 
me, and I could not but ask by what expedient she had 
been enabled to maintain such control over herself so long ? 

" 4 By looking in my Bible,' said she, ' at the example, 
and endeavouring to follow the steps, of Him, who to hen he 
was reviled, reviled not again ; when he suffered he threat- 
ened not, but committed himself to him that judgeth 
righteously.'* 

'* She left the room. But this incident had aroused a 
train of reflections, that continued to course through my 
mind, to the exclusion of every other thought. My con- 
science had been touched by the finger of God. The course. 
I had pursued in reference to Mary now appeared awfully 
wicked. I began to review my past life — to consider the 
principles upon which I had hitherto acted. I opened the 
long neglected word of God. My mind soon became 
thronged with convictions of sin and guilt, which took 
sleep from my eyes, and removed peace far off. I in vain 
sought, amid the engagements of business, and the gayeties 
of fashionable life, rest within. I never found it, until I 
found it in that blood of atonement which cleanseth from 
all sin. I am confident, that to the latest period of my ex- 
istence, I shall regard Mary Maywood as the honoured 
instrument, under God, by which I was brought to a sense 
of my duty. Her conduct, from that time to the present, 
has been a pattern to all servants. Although we have felt 
toward her the greatest affection, and treated her with the 
utmost tenderness, yet has she never in the slightest instance 
taken advantage of this kind treatment, but uniformly, and 
with true Christian principle, walked in that humble and 
subordinate path which comports with her station. Yes, 
she is a pattern for all servants. She rises with the dawn, 
anil thus redeems the time, having abundant leisure to read 
her Bible, and hold intercourse with her God, while others 
are in their beds. She is never idle, but seems to bear 
continually in mind that she is a steward, and that her time 
is one of those sacred trusts for which she will have to 
26* 



306 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The true interest of servants. 






render an account. Her great anxiety seems to be to make 
herself useful. She is ever attentive to the directions she 
receives, so that she never needs telling the second time. 
She is strictly conscientious, and from principle, carefully 
avoids waste or extravagance in the use of any article 
intrusted to her, ever making our interest her own. Her 
whole history presents a most striking instance of the di- 
vine efficacy and transforming power of the religion of 
Jesus. And if servants understood their real interests, they 
would seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteous* 
ness, and then from happy experience they would find, at 
Mary did, all other things added thereunto." 



MARY MAYWOOD. 307 



The sickness of Mary. 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE CHRISTIANS END. 



Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
fear no evil ; for thou art with me : thy rod and thy staff they comfort 
me. From the 23c? Psalm. 

Several years had now elapsed, and I had passed through 
a variety of scenes in a distant part ot the country. Still 
this narrative was as fresh in my memory as though I had 
heard it but yesterday. The events contained in it were 
such a practical illustration of the moral power of the Bible 
to transform the human character, and qualify man for all 
the duties of life, that I continued to turn to them with in- 
creased delight, and with new conviction of the divine 
source whence the Bible came. Business at length ren- 
dered it necessary that I should again visit the place in 
which the Wilson family resided. I immediately sought 
out my old friends, and, as formerly, met with a very cor- 
dial reception. It was just before the breakfast was brought 
on the table, that I called. Not seeing Mary in attendance, 
I made some inquiry in relation to her. No sooner had I 
mentioned her name, than I perceived a train of melancholy 
ideas had been started. 

" O !" said Mrs. Wilson, " Mary is near her rest." 
Mr. Wilson could not refrain from raising his handker- 
chief to his eyes. 

" Mary," said he, in a tone of voice indicating deep 
feeling, " a few months since caught a violent cold, and 
has gone into a hasty consumption. She is now on the 



308 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Ride into the country. 



very confines of the eternal world. We desired her to 
remain with us. But her mother, an aged and infirm wo* 
man, lives a few miles out of town, and Mary, hoping that 
her sickness and death might be blessed to the salvation of 
her mother, wished to go and die under her roof. We 
visit her almost every day. If it will afford you any 
satisfaction, I will accompany you to her residence this 
afternoon." 

To this proposition I most cheerfully acceded. It was in 
autumn. The frost had already changed the colour of the 
foliage, and given to the forest a thousand varied hues. 
The whole country, through which our road lay, seemed 
to wear a sober and solemn aspect. The falling and fallen 
leaves with which our path was frequently strewn, appear- 
ed to furnish a striking memento of the slight tenure by 
which we hold life. Our minds were thus prepared for the 
scene we were to witness in the humble cottage which we 
were approaching. This rural habitation had recently been 
fitted up at the expense of Mr. Wilson, and both in its ex- 
terior and interior, bore the aspect of comfort and neatness. 
It stood in a retired spot, and all nature seemed to repose 
around it with the stillness and serenity of a Sabbath scene. 
As we entered, we found objects of no less interest within, 
than we had been witnessing without. Mary was reclin- 
ing upon her bed in a half sitting posture, supported by 
pillows. I was struck with her wan and altered looks. 
The ravages of disease had wrought a great change in her 
appearance. A gleam of joy kindled in her hollow and 
sunken eye, and a new animation spread over her features 
as we approached her, and stretching out her hand, she 
feebly said, 

"Praised be my covenant-keeping God for all his mer- 
cies to me. And great thanks are due to you, my kind 
friends, for having taken the pains to visit one so unworthy 
of your attention." 

I sat down by her bedside in silence. My heart was 
too full to speak. At length I remarked, 



MARY MAYWOOD. 309 



The power of the Bible. 



" Mary, it is a long time since I have seen you — but I 
have often thought of you as one in whom God had dis- 
played the riches of his grace. I trust that you now feel 
the sustaining power of that grace which has shone forth 
so conspicuously in your life." 

" O yes," she replied, with increased animation and 
earnestness, "my confidence in my Saviour is unshaken. 
Since lying upon this bed of sickness I have received many 
tokens of his love. The divine promises now appear doubly 
precious to me. My Bible" — and here she placed her hand 
upon the sacred volume which lay by her side — the very 

volume she had received from the Rev. Mr. I on the 

evening that her mind was first brought under conviction of 
sin, " my Bible, what a comfort it has been to me in this 
sickness ! When I received this book I was told that I 
should find it my best friend. I have found it so through life. 
And I now find it a no less faithful guide to me in the hour 
of death. When depressed with the remembrance of my 
imperfections and neglects of duty — of the sins that checker 
the whole course of my earthly pilgrimage, this points me 
to the cross, and bids me cast all my cares upon Jesus. 
When I look with trembling at the approaching struggle, 
when my soul shall take its final leave of this poor body — 
when I turn my eye to the darkness of the grave, to the 
shadows and dimness that rest upon an untried eternity, 
and am full of fear — my Bible bids me look to Jesus, ' the 
author and finisher of my faith,' « the captain of my salva- 
tion,' who, through grace, will enable me to come off more 
than conqueror. When I look forward to a judgment bar, 
and my soul begins to shrink away in terror, my Bible 
spreads before me these precious truths — * If God be for 
us, who can be against us. He that spared not his own 
son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with 
him also freely give us all things. Who shall lay any 
thing to the charge of God's elect ? It is God that jus- 
tifieth. Who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that 



310 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The advantages of true piety. 



died — yea, rather, that is risen again ; who is even at the 
right hand of God — who also maketh intercession for us. 1 

"When I remember these precious declarations, I am con- 
strained to exclaim, — I am persuaded that neither death, 
nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor poioers, nor 
things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor 
depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate me 
from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

** O ! sir, I wish that all could know the worth of the 
Bible, and especially servants ? What would be my situa- 
tion this moment, just ready to enter the eternal world, 
without the hopes it imparts ? It makes us useful and happy 
in life, and gives us peace at the last. Servants above all 
others need the instruction of the Bible. It teaches them 
to be faithful, honest, contented, careful about the interests 
of their employers, and moderate in their own expenses." 

During these remarks she was frequently interrupted by 
violent turns of coughing, which greatly exhausted her 
strength. She then faintly added, 

" Godliness is great gain for this world : had not divine 
grace arrested my steps, I should at this time have been 
dying amid rags and wretchedness ; now I have every com- 
fort, and have laid up several hundred dollars, which will 
go to support my poor old mother when I sleep in the 
dust." 

Here her mother, full of age and decrepitude, came for- 
ward. Tears gushed down her withered cheeks, as she 
kneeled by the bedside, and seized the hand of hei 
daughter. 

" I shall want little," said she, in a voice almost stifled 
with grief — " I shall want little after you are gone. My 
old bones will soon be laid in the earth. I shall soon fol- 
low you." 

" Mother," said Mary, with much feeling, " I hope you 
will follow me to the presence of Christ, and that through 
infinite grace, we shall both be permitted to enter his king- 
dom " 






MARY MAY WOOD. 311 

The closing scene. 



" Ah ! my dear child !" said the aged and agitated mother 
** your letters, and Bible, and sickness, first led me to think 
of these things. After I had forgotten the Lord all my 
days, until I was old, and gray-headed, he still hath had 
mercy upon me, and brought my soul out of darkness. 
It is of his infinite mercy that I am not now in perdi 
tion." 

Deeply affected with the conversation we had heard, and 
the scene we had witnessed, we took our leave, not, how- 
ever, until we had kneeled down by the bed of this dying 
saint, and lifted up our hearts in prayer. The serenity of 
triumphant faith rested upon the countenance of Mary 
Maywood at our parting. Before the next morning she 
was in the bosom of her God. 

As we left this humble dwelling and commenced our re- 
turn, the shades of evening had begun to gather around 
us, and for a while we rode on silently, musing upon the 
scene from which we had just retired. I could not but 
think, how unimportant to all purposes of real happiness 
are the temporary allotments of men in this world. The 
main thing, after all, is to be so situated in life, that the grace 
of God will come to us, and the events of his providence 
lead us to walk in wisdom's ways. When I thought of 
Mary's history, and of the crown of unfading glory that 
was soon to be placed upon her head, I could not but 
think of how little consequence it was whether we were 
masters or servants during our short stay on the earth ! I 
could not but think how well it was, that we were just in 
the station and situation in life in which God had placed 
us ! How delightful to my mind was the thought that the 
Lord God Omnipotent reigneth ! And then, too, what an 
eulogium had I heard upon the Bible ! My faith was 
strengthened, and my hope and trust in God increased. 



Reader, if thou wouldst live esteemed, and die as happy 
did the subject of the preceding narrative, then like her, 



312 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Concluding reflection. 

. . 

view the Bible as thy best friend, study its holy precepts, 
cherish its heavenly hopes, and seek to exemplify in thy 
conduct, and experience in thy heart, its purifying, its 
saving influence. 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE VILLAGE BURIAL GROUND. 

" Like crowded forest trees we stand, 

And some are mark'd to fall ; 
The axe will smite at God's command, 

And soon shall smite us all. 
Green as the bay tree, ever green, 

With its new foliage on, 
The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen ; 

I pass'd — and they were gone. 
Read, ye that run, the awful truth 

With which I charge my page, 
A worm is in the bud of youth, 

And at the^root of age." 

Cowpeb. 

On a recent tour through one of the Northern States, I 
stopped at a village situated on a creek, which afforded 
numerous and extensive advantages and facilities for manu- 
facturing purposes. There was nothing in the immediately- 
surrounding scenery particularly calculated to interest a 
traveller. The whole aspect of the country as far as the 
eye could roam was rough and broken, and yet withal so 
tame and uniform, that one soon grew weary in looking at 
it. In like manner, the village itself presented nothing to 
the eye of a stranger particularly striking or attractive. In 
die construction of its buildings, the laying out of its streets, 

27 313 



314 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The change which time produces. 

and all its various arrangements, convenience and economy 
had most manifestly been consulted rather than taste or ele- 
gance. To the ordinary traveller, therefore, there was 
nothing connected with this place calculated to inspire him 
with a wish to linger in its neighbourhood. But I had 
spent sevjral years of my childhood there, and the sight 
of this village, as I approached it, awakened feelings of a 
peculiar character, and essentially different from those 
which would have been awakened in the bosom of a 
stranger. 

Many years had elapsed since my last visit to this place. 
Its general aspect had undergone very little change, but I 
soon perceived that its inhabitants were to me an almost 
entire new race of beings. 

Having stopped at one of the public inns, I immediately 
went to visit several spots which were once familiar to me, 
and with which were associated the fond remembrance of 
other days, and of scenes for ever past. As I leisurely 
strolled through the village, there was one thing that struck 
me very painfully. I could see no names on the signs, and 
bui few faces in the street, that I had ever before known. 
To all whom I met I was a stranger, and no one appeared 
to recognise me. At length it occurred to me, that thert 
was one habitation where I should probably find a number 
of my old acquaintances — " the house appointed for all 
living." Thither, therefore, I directed my steps. 

I have often thought it a fit and becoming expression 01 
our regard for our deceased friends, to see that the place of 
their interment is guarded from the profane intrusion of the 
thoughtless, and the unhallowed tread of brute beasts 
Great attention had been paid to this by the former inha- 
bitants of this village. The burial ground was a short dis- 
tance from the village, in a secluded and rural spot. It was 
in the form of an oblong square, and protected by a strong 
enclosure. On each side of the square various kinds of 
trees were planted, and especially th»se which have long 
been regarded as peculiarly appropriate to shade the ashe« 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 315 

Re/lections in the graveyard. 



of the departed. The avenue which led from the highway 
to this resting place of the dead was studded on either side 
with a row of weeping willows, which hung their drooping 
branches so mournfully over the head of him who passed 
beneath, that no one could reach the place of interment 
without feeling that he was treading on holy ground. 

As I walked up this avenue and entered that sacred area, 
where, in former years, I had so often heard the solemn 
sound of " earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust" 
borne on the air ; and where I had beheld weeping mourn- 
ers gather in silence around the newly excavated grave, to 
see the last remains of some dear friend let down into its 
dark and solitary abode, I could not but stop, and gaze in 
pensive meditation upon the " heaped hillocks" of earth 
that lay thick around me. " How populous," thought I, 
" this ' subterranean city I' How sure its annual increase 
of inhabitants ! Notwithstanding the living seek through 
monumental stones to keep up and perpetuate the distinc- 
tions which existed in life, yet, in truth and reality, how are 
they all lost in the grave ! The beggar and the rich man 
lie equally low, and the worm feeds alike sweetly upon 
them. The several paths of that busy multitude that are 
moving in so many directions through yonder streets, will 
all terminate here. O, if this thought could be ever fresh 
in their minds, how would it abate the ardour with which 
they pursue the perishing vanities of time ! How would 
it dissipate worldly mindedness, moderate the love of plea- 
sure, and make sensuality itself tremble amid its guilty 
indigencies !" 

As I passed along from grave to gravr, the names that I 
read upon the stones called up the images of a numerous 
group that I had once known. A plain marble slab that 
lay near me apprized me that I was treading over the ashes 
of one whose countenance and character I recollected very 
distinctly. He was a small thin man, and well known to 
all the village. Professionally he was? an apothecary, anG 
for many long years had he dealt out medicine to heal the 



316 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The grave of the apothecary. The beautiful female. The trifler. 



sickness of others. Though thin and sallow, he had been 
so long at his post, and was by night and by day surrounded 
by so many powerful agents to ward off disease, that many 
supposed that he had discovered the true elixir of life, and 
could bid defiance to the shafts of mortality. What a 
commentary did that stone read to me upon the vanity of 
all such expectations ! His medicine availed nothing when 
God remanded the dust, out of which he had been formed, 
to its native inanimate state. 

A little farther, and I read upon a splendid monument- - 
the name of one who, in early life, had figured largely in 
the gay world. Beauty of person, and elegance of man- 
ners., joined with uncommon brilliancy of intellect, made 
her an object of universal attraction. One of the wealthiest 
young men in the country succeeded in gaining her hand. 
They lived in great splendour, and for a while their path 
seemed strewed with flowers ; but soon some hidden source 
of sorrow stole the colour from her cheek, and spread a 
shade of gloom over her once bright countenance. Com- 
mon report declared that the cause of her unrevealed trouble 
was conjugal infidelity on the part of him who had won 
and wed her. Whatever that cause was, it drove her to 
the foot of the cross for blessedness, and in Jesus Christ 
she found a faithful and unfailing friend. Many years had 
passed away since I had heard her name pronounced, and 
when I read it on that proud monument, I could not but 
exclaim, " How valueless and unmeaning does all this 
sculptured marble that covers thy poor dust appear to thee 
now ! And if, through infinite mercy, thou art among the 
blood-washed throng around the throne, how loud are thy 
praises to the Eternal, for that bitter drug mixed in the cup 
of thy earthly happiness, which made the pleasures of the 
world pall on thy taste, and led thee to the well of salva- 
tion hi quest of the waters of life !" 

Upon another stone, I read a name that made me feel 
more solemn than I had before since I entered within these 
precincts of the dead. That name was Harry C , He 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 317 

The grave of an aged saint. The Lindsley family. 



had been all his life a ceaseless trifler. Possessing natu- 
rally great humour, and a talent for keen, sarcastic repartee, 
he cultivated and cherished this propensity, to the neglect 
of every thing sober and serious. He could not go to the 
house of God, nor even to a funeral, without finding some- 
thing to make all around him laugh. But now, there he 
lay before me in the silence of the grave ! His laugh was 
over — his jokes were done — the worm was feeding on his 
dissolved frame, and his soul was in a world where all was 
sober and serious reality. 

As I walked onward a little farther, I found myself 
standing over the grave of one whose venerable form and 
silver locks I had often seen in the house of God. This 
aged saint was a living epistle of Christ, known and read 
of all men. While gazing upon the spot where his mould- 
ered ashes reposed, and lifting up my thoughts to the glo- 
rious rest upon which he had entered, I could not but say, 
" Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.' 1 '' Having at 
length reached a distant corner of the burial ground, I read 
on four stones that were ranged close to each other, — 

" Frederick Lindsley, Esq., who departed this life in 
the 43d year of his age" 

" Mary, relict of Frederick Lindsley, Esq., who '-fell 
asleep in Christ'' in the 31th year of her age" 

" Hezekiah, son of Frederick and Mary Lindsley, who 
died in the eighth year of his age." 

" Mary Anna Lindsley, who died in May, fyc. in the 
ISth year of her age — much beloved in life, lamented in 
death; her memory will be long cherished on earth — 
her many excellencies can be fully known only in hea- 
ven" 

" Ah," said I to myself, as I read these names with a 
throbbing heart, " then they are all gone — they are now a 
family in eternity — I shall meet them no more till I 
meet them there." 

I had known this family intimately, and spent many 
happy hours in their society. Their history was one truly 
27* 



318 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The Lindsley family without religion. 

eventful ; replete with reverses, and furnishing many in- 
structive lessons to those who ponder the ways of God and 
consider the operation of his hands. 

Mr. Lindsley was a lawyer, and had, at an early age, 
acquired not only eminence in his profession, but in a dis- 
tinguished degree the confidence of the community in which 
he resided. This confidence had been inspired, not only 
by his accurate and extensive legal knowledge, but by his 
great integrity of character and uprightness of conduct. 

He was particularly blessed and happy in his family. 
Mrs. Lindsley, the partner of his bosom, added to polished 
manners and a well balanced mind, great amiability and 
sweetness of temper. She was the mother of two interest- 
ing children. The oldest was a daughter, who, at the time 
that our narrative commences, was about twelve years of 
age. Mary Anna bore an exact resemblance to her mother 
in all the delicate touches and interesting features of her 
character. 

Mr. Lindsley, among his many other excellencies, was 
distinguished for his kindness and great hospitality. In 
him the poor and the fatherless found a friend, " the bless- 
ing of him that was ready to perish came upon him," and 
often he "caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." 

His wife and children he almost idolized. Where their 
comfort or happiness was concerned, he spared no expense, 
shrunk from no sacrifices. His home was a little paradise, 
where all hearts seemed bound together by the rosied 
wreath of love. All who visited his house went away with 
the full impression, that if there was a happy family on 
earth, it was Mr. Lindsley's. 

This family, however, lacked one essential element of 
happiness. Their hearts had not been renewed and puri- 
fied by the power of the Holy Ghost. While, therefore, 
this great change was un wrought in them — while they 
neglected this " principal thing" — their happiness was built 
upon a foundation as uncertain and unstable as the sand. 
A.n event which occurred about this time revealed to them 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 319 

Change in religious views. 



this truth, and turned their thoughts toward the solemn 
realities of the eternal world. They had, previous to this, 
been constant attendants upon public worship, but now they 
began to feel that something more than a mere outward re- 
spect for religion was necessary. The circumstances hera 
referred to will be explained in the next chapter. 



£20 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The goodness of God does not always lead to repemaac*. 



CHAPTER II. 

MR. LINDSLEY's FAMILY 

" Afflictions from above, 
Are angels sent 
On embassies of love." 

Merkt. 

The unnumbered blessings which a kind Providence 
spreads around us, and the manifold tokens of divine regard 
which we daily receive, were, one would think, sufficient 
to melt our hearts into gratitude, and win us to the service 
of God. But long experience has shown, that men are 
usually never more unmindful of their Creator than when 
they are feasting upon his richest bounties, and their sky 
is irradiated by the brightest rays of his mercy. Affliction, 
with dark and terrific form, must cross our path, blighting 
the fondest hopes, and desolating the fairest prospects, be- 
fore we can be recalled to a sense of our duty. And happy 
is it, if the blighting of earthly hopes and the bitter pangs 
of earthly bereavement lead us to fly to the bosom of God, 
and to seek shelter beneath the outspread wings of cove- 
nanted mercy. 

The voice of sorrow and mourning was now heard in the 
dwelling of Mr. Lindsley. His only son, a lad about eight 
years old, had fallen from a neighbouring hayloft, and was 
taken up dead. Mr. Lindsley was absent on business 
when this melancholy event occurred. As soon as the 
intelligence reached him, he instantly hastened home 

" Never shall I forget," said one who was present on 
that occasion, and from whom I have derived several im- 
portant facts in this hasty sketch — " never shall I forget 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 321 



The religious impressions of Mrs. Lindsley. 



Mr. L 's expression and attitude, as he entered the room, 

and appioached the corpse of his child. His hands were 
clenched, every feature of his countenance was wrought up 
into an expression of agony, and his whole frame shook 
with emotion. He stood and gazed for a moment upon 
the sweet and motionless face of his boy, and then, as if 
he could no longer restrain himself, rushed from the room 
to give vent in private to his feelings." 

After the funeral had passed, and the first excess of grief 
had subsided, this family were visited by the minister of 
the place, and kindly but faithfully reminded, that the be- 
reavement which they had sustained was a solemn admo- 
nition from God, urging them to enter upon the business 
of their everlasting salvation. His words were listened to 
with seriousness and attention. 

A change from this time was discoverable in both Mr. 
and Mrs. Lindsley. The Spirit of God seemed to have 
touched their hearts. 

I know not whether Mrs. Lindsley was more deeply 
impressed than her husband, but she certainly cherished 
more sacredly her serious impressions, and sought the Lord 
with an anxious earnestness that abated not, till she felt 
emboldened to lay hold on the divine promises, and claim 
Jesus as her Saviour. From the hour the light of God's 
reconciled countenance began to dawn upon her troubled 
mind, the cross of Christ became endeared to her. She 
then learned the meaning of that declaration — "unto you 
who believe he is precious.'' 1 Christ was precious to her 
soul. Her great desire was to follow him and do his will. 
She wished to make an entire surrender of herself into his 
hands. Her daily inquiry before the mercy-seat was, 
" Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" She soon disco- 
vered, from reading the New Testament, that it was her 
duty to confess Christ before men. She was struck parti- 
cularly with these passages. " Go ye, therefore, and teach 
all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and 
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." " Go ye into all the 



322 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The obligations to receive baptism. 



world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that 
believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved ; but he that be- 
iieveth not shall be damned." " And when they believed 
Philip preaching the things concerning the kingdom of 
God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, 
both men and women." " Peter said unto them, Repent, 
and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus 
Christ, for the remission of sins ; and ye shall receive the 
gift of the Holy Ghost. Then they that gladly received 
his word were baptized." These, and similar passages, 
convinced her that baptism was an ordinance enjoined by 
the word of God. She needed no argument to persuade 
her to do what she plainly saw was the requirement of 
holy Scripture. She had not been baptized in infancy- 
and she therefore determined, in obedience to the commanc 
of that Saviour, to whose free and unmerited grace alont 
she looked for mercy, to make a public acknowledgment 
of him in the holy sacrament of baptism. 

Having come to this determination, she sought a fit op 
portunity to communicate her intention to Mr. Lindsley. 
About three months had now elapsed since the death of 
their son. Mrs. Lindsley and her daughter were one day 
sitting together alone, when Mr. Lindsley came in, and sa< 
for a while silent and apparently in deep thought. 

" I have been thinking," at length said Mrs. Lindsley, 
addressing herself to her husband, " I have been thinking 
for some days to speak to you upon a subject that lies 
very near my heart. In the death of our dear son, we have 
had a most striking proof of the emptiness and instability 
of all that this earth can give. I feel that I have need of 
a divine Comforter. I wish to seek him in the way of his 
appointment. I wish to cast myself at the feet of Jesus, 
and ask him to wash me in « the fountain that has been 
opened for sin and uncleanness. , I wish to be baptized." 
Mr. Lindsley was deeply affected by these remarks 
The veins in his forehead became distended, and upoi* 
every feature were visible the workings of a troubled soul. 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 323 

Mr. Lindsley. Mary Anna. 



The tear glistened in his eye, and his lips quivered with 
emotion. For some time he could not speak. At length 
he said, 

" Waii, my dear, a few weeks, and perhaps I shall feel 
authorized to accompany you to the baptismal font, for 1 
have never been baptized." He could say no more. He 
arose and left the room. 

There is no doubt but that Mr. Lindsley was at this 
time under deep serious impressions, and that he had 
formed secret resolutions to enter upon the work of his sal- 
vation. Mrs. Lindsley followed the retiring steps of her 
husband, as he left the room, with a streaming eye, offering 
up to the Divine Being the earnest petition, that the Holy 
Spirit might accompany him wherever he went, revealing 
to him his character as a sinner, and constraining him to 
fly to the foot of the cross for mercy and life. When she 
turned her eyes towards Mary Anna, whose presence she 
had entirely forgotten in the deeply absorbing train of re- 
flection that had been passing through her mind, she saw 
her bathed in tears. Her first thought was, that this gush 
of sensibility had been called forth by the deep feeling she 
had just witnessed in her parents. Mrs. Lindsley, there- 
fore, did not think fit to intimate, by making any inquiry, 
that she noticed this burst of tenderness in her daughter. 

After a little interval Mary Anna was the first to inter- 
rupt the silence that ensued, by the following innocent, art- 
less, and affecting train of remarks ; and as she spoke, the 
tears were still glistening in her eyes. 

" Mother, I hope dear father will become pious, and be 
baptized. For I was reading this morning in the gospel 
of St. John, and it has been sounding in my ears ever 
since, 4 he that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved ; 
but he that believeth not shall be damned.' I hope father 
will be saved ; don't you, mother ?" 

" Child," said her mother, her heart ready to burst wi* x ; 
emotion, " it is highly proper that you should feel a tender 
and affectionate solicitude in reference to the eternal salva* 



324 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The religious exercises of a child. 

tion of your dear father, but of vastly greater importance 
that you should feel an anxiety about your own everlasting 
condition, and learn to ' remember your Creator in the days 
of your youth.' " 

"Dear mother," said Mary Anna, "how long I have 
wished to talk with you on this subject ! I have been 
thinking all day what an awful thing it would be, to be 
damned — to be shut out for ever from heaven, and cast 
down to that place where, the Bible says, ' the worm dieth 
not and the fire is not quenched ;' and I sometimes fear 
that I shall be shut up there, for I am such a sinner P* 

" How long since you have had these feelings and reflec- 
tions ?" inquired her mother. 

" Ever since I can remember," said she, " at times. But 
these thoughts have dwelt continually in my mind since 
last spring. I went out one day to gather wild flowers. As 
I was wandering around, all at once it occurred to me, how 
beautiful and lovely are the works of God ! The trees had 
just put on their new foliage — the meadows and pastures 
were covered with fresh verdure — the violets bloomed all 
around — the blossoms hung upon the peach trees — every 
breath of air seemed full of fragrance — the sun shone with 
all its splendour and brightness over every field, and seemed 
to tip ever}* flower with new tints of beauty — a thousand 
little insects were buzzing and dancing through the air — 
the birds were singing sweetly from every bush and bram- 
ble — the lambs were skipping over the hills, or chasing in 
little troops through the plain — all seemed joyous, and 
thankful, and glad. A voice seemed to whisper in my ear, 
i Shall all these praise God and you forget him V O, how 
my heart then sunk within me ! I sat down and wept. I 
tried to pray — to bless God ; but then I felt that I was sc 
great a sinner — I had forgotten God so long, and loved him 
so little, that I could not pray. It seemed as if he frowned 
upon me with a look of wrath. I came home sorrowful. 
I kept thinking for many weeks about this, and when 
Hezekiah died I felt as though God designed his death a* 






A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 32S 



Joy and peace in believing 



a warning to me ; and there has not been a day from that 
time to this that I have not thought about dying ; and when 
I have been alone, and thought over all the wrong things I 
have done, I have often felt as though there was no hope 
for me. But the other day I was reading in my Bible this 
passage, ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest.' I had just before been 
thinking, what an ' intolerable burden' my sins were ; and 
the thought occurred to me, Ami not one of those who are 
1 labouring and heavy laden V Am I not one of those to 
whom the Saviour here says, 'I will give you rest?' In 
spite of myself I could not but rejoice. It seemed as if I 
had all at once found Him that would save me. Ever 
since then I take delight in nothing so much as in reading 
about Christ. Mother, da you not think that Christ will 
have mercy upon me ? May I not then also be baptized ?" 
This guileless, unsophisticated, and almost infantile dis- 
course of Mary Anna quite overcame the feelings of her 
mother. Her heart was too full for utterance. Embracing 
her daughter, she bathed herself and her <»hild in tears of 
tenderness and joy. 



326 GATHERED FRAGMENTS 



Covenant relation. 



CHAPTER III. 

PROFESSION OF RELIGION. 

" Soldiers of Christ, arise, 

And put your armour on. 
* * * • # 
Who in the strength of Jesus trusts, 

Is more than conqueror. 
Stand then in his great might, 

With all his strength endued, 
And take, to arm you for the fight, 

The panoply of God." 

When it is recollected that baptism is the sign and seal 
of the Christian covenant — a covenant entered into between 
creatures, whose breath is in their nostrils, and that Omnipo- 
tent Being; who "is from everlasting to everlasting" — that 
all his mercies are covenanted mercies — that the very idea 
of a covenant implies the greatest condescension on his 
part, inasmuch as he thereby binds himself by a promise, 
assuring those that love and fear him, that though " the 
mountains depart and the hills be removed, his kindness 
shall never depart from them, nor the covenant of his 
peace be removed" — when these several particulars are 
recollected, it is truly astonishing, that, on the one hand, 
any who have not repented of their sins, who have not 
resolved to turn from every evil way, and devote themselves, 
soul and body, to the service of God, should presume to 
approach the baptismal font, or seek to be washed in the 
mystical waters of baptism, as though " the putting away 
ol the filth of the flesh," not " the answer of a good con- 
science toward God," would make them clean in his sight ; 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 321 



The danger of indecision in religion. 



and on the other hand, that any who cherish a well-ground- 
ed hope that they have been born of the Spirit — and are 
desirous of receiving some special token of God's loving- 
kindness, should think lightly of this blessed sacrament, 
instituted on purpose to initiate them into the family of the 
Most High. 

Mr. Lindsley, for a number of weeks after the conversa- 
tion related in the last chapter, appeared very thoughtful 
and serious. He assembled his family, night and morning, 
and read to them some affecting portion of Scripture. His 
whole appearance indicated the undoubted fact, that he was 
under deep convictions of sin, and " almost persuaded to 
be a Christian." 

Mrs. Lindsley was cheering herself from day to day 
witli the hope that the time was not far distant, when her- 
self, her husband, and their only child, would stand before 
the baptismal font to enter into an everlasting covenant with 
Jehovah. She did not, however, think it expedient to 
mention the subject again to her husband, presuming that 
when his mind was in a fit state he would himself pro- 
pose it. 

Mr. Lindsley was a firm believer in the truth of the 
Christian religion, and in its vital and practical influence 
upon the heart and life. He could not have borne the idea 
of dying without its consolations. He meant to save his 
soul. But still he did not now feel ready to obey the call 
of Christ, to give up all and follow him. He stood so con- 
nected with men of business, and by his professional duties 
was so frequently brought in contact with the world, that 
he feared he could not sustain the Christian character con- 
sistently. Such were the evil suggestions of a heart that 
still clung to the world. Though in most points a man of 
great decision and fearlessness, Mr. Lindsley was ashamed 
of the cross, and shrunk from the idea of standing before 
the world in the avowed character of a religious man. 

He soon began to resist the strivings of God's Spirit. 
He secretly tried a thousand expedients to extract the 



328 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Preparation for baptism. 

arrows of conviction from his soul. He sought to banish 
his serious reflections by becoming immersed in professional 
engagements, and at length his seriousness began gradually 
to wear off. 

Mrs. Lindsley observed this with alarm. It was Sunday 
morning. She had been long hoping, as the morn of that 
sacred day week after week returned, that he would an- 
nounce to her his desire to approach the baptismal font. 
But she had waited in vain. She determined to wait no 
longer. She therefore renewed the conversation on the 
subject of their receiving this holy ordinance. 

Mr. Lindsley at first seemed averse to speaking upon the 
subject. Mary Anna was present, and ventured to make a 
remark. " Do," said she, w my dear father, resolve to be 
on the Lord's side. Let us all go together, and give our- 
selves up to God in baptism." 

The sensibility of the father was touched by the solici- 
tude of his child, and he thus replied : 

" I do not think that my feelings or character will war- 
rant so solemn a profession on my part, as I must necessa- 
rily make in receiving baptism. But do not wait for me. 
Next to being admitted myself into the fold of Christ's 
flock, nothing can give me so much pleasure as to know that 
my wife and child are numbered among the children of 
God. Appoint next Sunday for the time of receiving that 
holy ordinance, and perhaps" — a tear started from his eye 
as he spoke — " perhaps I shall then think differently." 

The rubric that precedes the baptismal service in the 
Episcopal church requires, that in all cases where adult 
persons are to receive baptism, " timely notice shall be 
given to the minister, that so due care may be taken for 
their examination" to ascertain whether they possess the 
proper qualifications. In conformity to this standing rule, 
the intention of Mrs. Lindsley and her daughter was signi- 
fied to the clergyman to whose congregation they were 
attached, with a request that he would call and allow them 
to converse with him on the subject. The request was 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 329 

Christ all our strength. 

most cheerfully complied with, and the evidence they gave 
that they were truly under the influence of divine grace 
was every way satisfactory. 

A part of the conversation that passed between the cler- 
gyman and Mary Anna was as follows : 

"I am rejoiced," said he, " to see one so young resolv- 
ing to devote herself to the service of her heavenly Father." 

" I fear," was her judicious reply, " I fear I am net too 
young to be lost if I should die without a Saviour." 

"Very true," replied the minister. "But have you 
duly considered the responsibility that you take upon you 
by this act ? There are many pleasures and gayeties styled 
in the catechism * the vanities of the world,' to which 
young people are usually devoted ; these, by your baptis- 
mal vow, must be for ever renounced. That vow binds you 
to all the duties and high responsibilities of a Christian. It 
was customary in the primitive church for persons, imme- 
diately upon receiving baptism, to be presented with a white 
robe, which they were to wear for a number of days, in 
token of the purity of life which, by profession, they were 
bound to exhibit. Remember, my young friend, that you 
are about to put on a robe that will be soiled by every con- 
tact with the world." 

"The pleasures of the world," said Mary Anna, "I can 
renounce without regret ; but I am sensible of my own 
weakness. To keep that white robe unstained is, I am 
persuaded, utterly beyond my power. But may I not hope, 
that if I give myself up to Christ, soul, body, and spirit, 
and look to him continually for guidance and support, I 
shall be kept by his power, and that his strength will be 
made perfect in my weakness ?" 

" Indeed you may, my child," replied the pastor, deeply 
affected by the degree of spiritual knowledge which one so 
y ?ung evinced. " This is the true secret of all our strength. 
For though St. Paul declared that he had no sufficiency in 
himself, yet when he looked to the all-sufficient Saviour 
28* 



330 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The feelings with which Mrs. Lindsley approached the baptismal font. 

he immediately added, 'I can do all things through 
Christ, which strengthened me.' " 

. It was hoped by Mrs. Lindsley that her husband would 
have been present at this interview. But he evidently 
sought to avoid it, and was accordingly absent at the time. 

The next Sunday arrived. The afternoon of that day 
had been appointed as the time of receiving that long anti- 
cipated rite which was to engraft Mrs. Lindsley and her 
daughter into the visible body of Christ. But when she 
rose from her seat to go forward to receive that holy rite, 
her frame trembled, her step was unsteady, a deathlike 
paleness came over her countenance, and her heart was 
weighed down with sorrow. It was not that she went 
reluctantly to dedicate herself to the service of her Saviour, 
but that she went unaccompanied by him whose happiness 
and salvation were as dear to her as her own — that she 
went thus wrapped in a cloud. The thought at that mo- 
ment crossed her mind, that they might finally and ever- 
lastingly be separated. It was that dreadful and agonizing 
thought that shook her frame with trembling, rendered her 
step unsteady, spread paleness over her features, and 
pressed her down with a load of sorrow. 

When Mrs. Lindsley and her daughter came forward 
and stood before the chancel, many eyes in the congrega- 
tion were turned towards Mr. Lindsley' s pew, — a disap- 
pointment being evidently felt, in not seeing him by the 
side of his wife and daughter; but his pew was empty. 

This struck every one as singular, inasmuch as Mr. L 

was seldom absent from church ; and the thought very na- 
turally occurred, that he would feel a peculiar interest in 
being present on such an occasion. 

The ceremony proceeded. The meek, humble, and 
subdued appearance of the mother and her daughter — the 
tender, affecting, and solemn language of the service, made 
a deep impression upon the congregation. The ordinance, 
as there is every reason to believe, was made the channel 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 331 



The trying test. 



of rich consolation and much spiritual strength to the reci- 
pients themselves. 

We are now coming to a period in their history, when 
the reality of their principles was to be put to the test, and 
all the sustaining influence of divine grace, of which they 
were partakers, was needed to uphold them. 



332 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The sad decline. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FATAL DERELICTION. 

And as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God 
gave them over to a reprobate mind. 

Epistle to the Romans. 

A pout four years had now elapsed since the occurrence 
of the events related in the last chapter. And in reference 
to those sweet scenes of domestic happiness which formerly 
gladdened the dwelling of Mr. Lindsley, it might well be 
said, " How is the gold become dim ! how is the most fine 
gold changed !" 

From the Sunday that his wife and daughter received 
baptism, his views and feelings seemed totally changed. 
The effort which he made to withstand the strong 
wresiiings of the Spirit, that then urged him to a surrender 
of himself to the service of his Saviour, seemed to burst at 
once from around him all those bands of religion which pa- 
rental instruction had at first imposed, and which the belief 
of years had been strengthening. His respect for divine 
things was evidently diminished. His trouble of soul was 
gone. He entered upon the theatre, and took an active 
part in the scenes, of political life. In the contest and col- 
lisions in which he was engaged, and the measures which 
he thought necessary to adopt to carry his plans, he began 
to contract habits of dissipation. His business was neg- 
lected. A frown, which never before had darkened the 
sunshine of his home, was now frequently seen on his 
brow in the midst of his family. Things continued to wax 
worse and worse ; and at the time to which our narrative 
now refers, Mr. Lindsley seemed to have reached a poinl 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY, 338 

Intemperance. Infidelity. 

in the road of iniquity, from which there was little pros- 
pect of return. His once manly and intelligent counte- 
nance now bore the red and bloated aspect of intemperance. 
His business had left him. The most of his property was 
gone. He spent the greater part of his time in idleness — 
lounging in bar-rooms, and making merry with a set of 
companions, who, like himself, had made shipwreck of 
their character and fortune. 

He no longer visited the sanctuary of God. The truths 
that he there heard troubled him. He no longer read the 
Bible, for condemnation flashed upon him from its evry 
page. 

At this time there was in this village an organized club 
of skeptics, who styled their body " The Church of Rea- 
son." This club was made up of the most profane and 
profligate in the community — of persons of the most aban- 
doned lives. One common feeling had drawn them toge- 
ther — a desire to find in infidelity, or atheism, or in some 
other "refuge of lies," a system of belief that would allow 
them to remain at ease in the gratification of their lusts, 
and in the indulgence of their favourite sins. 

Such was this " Church of Reason." They convened 
regularly on the Lord's day. Their chief business was to 
drink to intoxication, to sing songs, to ridicule the Scrip- 
tures, and defame religion. With this club Mr. Lindsley 
connected himself, and in time became its leader and head. 

He was no longer the kind and affectionate husband. 
An utter depravation of moral sentiment seemed to have 
been wrought in him. In all those points in which his 
character formerly appeared most amiable, there was now 
exhibited the most appalling features of fiend-like depravity. 
That wife whom he had cherished with so much tender- 
ness and love ; that daughter whom he had nurtured with 
so much parental care and kindness, he now seemed per- 
fectly to hate. He took every occasion to wound and 
mortify their feelings in the presence of company, by utter- 
ing the grossest indelicacies and the most heaven-daring 



334 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The profligate husband and hardened falher. 



profanity. He employed every art and expedient that ma 
levoience could devise, to thwart and disturb them in their 
religious enjoyments. He sought every opportunity to 
denounce in their hearing, the Bible, religion, and the mi- 
nisters of religion ; and to load them with every vile epithet 
found in the vocabulary of vulgarity and profaneness. 

All this was borne by his amiable wife and daughter 
with unparalleled meekness and patience. Not one repin- 
ing or reproachful word was uttered. They had learned 
in the school of Christ to exercise that " charity which 
sulforeth long and is kind, which beareth all things, hopeth 
all things, and endureth all things." And daily did they 
kneel down together before the throne of God, and put up 
their joint petitions — the one for a profligate husband, and 
the other for a hardened father. 

This meek and patient endurance of evil did not soften, 
but seemed to exasperate the feelings of Mr. Lindsley. 
Conscious that he had injured, irreparably injured, the 
beings who of all others loved him most, he was bent 
upon provoking them to some act of rashness, that he might 
seize upon it as a sort of an apology to himself for his 
conduct. Defeated in this object, he became still more 
and more desperate. Temporal misfortunes began to 
thicken around him. Deeply in debt — destitute of credit — 
having no funds that he could control — he at times awoke 
to the full perception of the horrors of his situation. And 
at such times, all these calamities were most irrationally 
and unjustly charged upon his family. His treatment to 
them at length became so abusive and alarming, that it was 
deemed necessary for their personal safety to flee their 
home, and seek shelter and protection under another roof. 

One instance, selected from many others of a similar 
character, will serve to illustrate this remark. 

Mrs. Lindsley, naturally of a frail constitution, was now, 
from the accumulating weight of domestic grief which hung 
upon her heart, in a wretched state of health. Her pale 
features, occasionally flushed with an hectic glow, bore 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 33fl 

The sorrowful wife. 

evident marks that a worm was already at the stem oi 
life. 

It was a cold wintry night — the town-clock had already 
struck twelve. Mrs. Lindsley had just returned from the 
window, to see if she could catch a glimpse of the return- 
ing form of her husband ; but no human shape was visible 
through the dim and shadowy moonlight. All without was 
still as the repose of the grave, save the creaking of some 
loose board on the fence, that now and then was swung by 
the wind. The fire, which had been fed by an economical 
hand, while the patient wife sat up to watch the return of 
him, the sound of whose tread, after an evening's absence, 
once made her heart leap with joy — was reduced to a 
small bed of coals. She had often set up longer and later 
to wait his return ; but now faintness and fatigue con- 
strained her to think of retiring. Again, with feeble and 
tottering step, she went to the window, and strained her 
eye to see if no signs of his approach could be discovered. 
But he came not ! The lonely hours of that evening she 
had spent in much prayer for her husband. Faith seemed 
to assure her that there was still hope. She wished to 
welcome his return with kindness. But he came not ! 
Raking the ashes over the expiring embers, she went to 
her solitary couch with a sad and sorrowful heart. 

That evening was spent far differently by her husband. 
He was presiding in the atheistical club, and on no pre- 
vious occasion had he ever gone to such fearful lengths. 
Having drank deeply, he gave full vent to all the malicious 
and malignant feelings of his heart. Not content with re- 
viling the piety of men, and the purity of angels, he assailed 
the throne of God, uttering the most horrid blasphemies, 
and pouring forth such a torrent of oaths and imprecations, 
that the whole company were startled, and stood aghast 
with horror. 

It was from such a scene that Mr. Lindsley went to his 
family about two o'clock in the morning. Finding Mrs. 
Lindsley had retired, he compelled her to get up and remain 



330 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Unkind treatment. The danger of impenitent men. 






in her night dress, in a cold room, where there was no fire, 
till morning. Having locked the doors of this room, he 
walked the floor till the day dawned, renewing his strain 
of blasphemy, and polluting the very atmosphere with 
incessant profanity. 

In vain did the feeble and shivering form of his wife 
silently appeal to his pity — in vain did she entreat him not 
ro hurl defiance at the throne of God. There was no pity, 
ho feeling in him. His heart was converted into stone. 
Sin which dragged angels from heaven — sin which deso- 
lated paradise — sin which dug hell and kindled its unquench- 
able fires — sin had transformed this man into a fiend. 
This is no exaggerated picture. I have most rigidly adhered 
to a statement of naked facts. And what do these facts 
show ? They show, that there slumbers enough rebellion 
in the heart of any unconverted sinner to desolate the uni- 
verse. Mr. Lindsley was once regarded as possessing a 
most amiable and lovely character. But his heart all the 
time was unchanged. When once the Spirit of God was 
withdrawn from him, the evil which lay dormant within 
was roused to action. Reader ! has thy heart been 
changed ? If not, thou canst not say how soon that " car- 
nal mind" which is within thee, and which is " enmity 
against God," may urge thee on to a brink no less awful 
and perilous than that on which Mr. Lindsley now stood. 
He had all the securities to virtue and morality which any 
one can have, whose heart is not given up to God. There 
is no safety out of Christ. There is no safety for any 
human being, over whose head the Eternal Jehovah does 
not hold his shield. None but those who give themselves 
up to him have a promise that He will keep them. Let it 
not be forgotten, that the impenitent — he who resists the 
strivings of the Holy Spirit, and refuses to submit his hear! 
to God, has no keeper. 



A FAMILY IN ETERNH1T. 337 



The true flource of infidelity. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE INFIDEL ON HIS DEATH-BED. 

A death-bed's a detector of the heart. 
Yotnro. 

They who deny the truth and credibility of the Bible, 
though they often laugh at the weakness and delusion of 
Christians, and make loud boast of the fearlessness and 
undisturbed tranquillity with which they can look upon 
the approach of death, most generally in that dread and 
trying hour turn cowards. The eagerness which they 
manifest to unsettle the faith of others, and the reckless 
and impious air with which they lay their desecrating hand 
upon all that is holy, are but symptoms of the pangs 
within — are but wretched shifts to drown that awful voice 
which the Spirit of God is ringing in the startled ear of 
conscience. 

So it was with Mr. Lindsley. In fleeing from the Spirit 
of God, he rushed into the pathway of guilt. To still the 
voice of conscience, that he might travel that path undis 
turbed, he tried to disbelieve the Bible ; but the truth had 
been graven in such deep and living characters upon his 
heart, that it could not be thus erased. Whenever he al- 
lowed himself to reflect, the burning conviction, in spite 
of all his avowed infidelity, still clung blistering to his 
heart, that there was an awful hell, in which God would 
one day punish him for his sins. Death, therefore, when- 
ever it was brought near, came clothed in tenfold terror. 

An event illustrative of this remark occurred while his 
kmily still remained with him. In returning on horseback, 
29 



338 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

How an infidel supports himself on a sick-bed. 

one night, from a scene of revelry, he was thrc wn from his 
horse, and so seriously injured, that his life for some time 
was despaired of. During his confinement, it was observa- 
ble to all who visited him, how bitter and dreadful the 
thoughts of death were to him. Not a word of infidelity, 
nor an oath, dropped from his lips while he lay thus near 
the confines of eternity. 

Hopes were then entertained that a permanent change 
would be wrought in him. But the first place he visited, 
after leaving his sick room, was a rum-stall. He immedi- 
ately returned to his former courses, apparently with in- 
creased relish — certainly with more unbridled indulgence. 

It now became evident to all, that the excess and dissi- 
pation in which he indulged would soon break down nis 
constitution, and terminate his life. The event showed 
that these apprehensions were well grounded. 

A few months after his acts of cruelty had banished his 
wife and daughter from his home, he was attacked with an 
inflammatory complaint, which daily became more and 
more alarming, and threatened to terminate speedily his 
earthty career. 

He at first did not consider his disease dangerous, and 
therefore, with the help of his companions, who were 
often with him, he for a while kept up his spirits. The 
profane jest, the loud laugh, and the merry carousal, dissi- 
pated the gloom and tediousness of the sick room. But as 
the violence of his disorder increased, the visits of these 
profligate companions became more seldom. For vice and 
profligacy do not love to look upon the grisly features of 
the king of terrors. 

Mr. Lindsley began to feel the want of that kind attendance 
which mitigates the sufferings, and eases the pains of a 
sick-bed. He thought of his mother — she was in her 
grave He thought of his wife — wormwood and gall were 
in that thought ! Why was she not by his side ? Often 
had she tended around his bed of sickness with all the 
nursing care and tenderness which fond attention could 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 33* 



Remorse. The faithful exhortation. 



dictate. Why did not her meek and gentV <orm now stand 
by the side of that couch of languishing? Ah, he knew 
too well the cause ; and the remembrance .»f it was like a 
poniard to his heart. 

Mr. Lindsley had now to spend many hours alone — 
they were hours of darkness, of desolateness, *nd direful 
anguish — often filled up with oaths, imprecations, and 
blasphemy. At times the frail form of his much injured 
ar 1 heart-broken wife would seem to glide before him — 
an J then for a moment his feelings would relent, and the 
determination would be formed, that she should be en- 
treated to return. But as the thought was revolved over 
in his mind, pride would start up, and force him to a dif- 
ferent conclusion. " No," he would say, " iwver shall 
the words I uttered when she for the last time bade me 
adieu, be recalled. I then said, and the word shall never 
be revoked — Go — go to those you care more for than for 
me, and know that your presence will never b* again wel- 
comed beneath this roof till my body is borne lifeless over 
that threshold." 

It was in the midst of these reflections, that the minister 
of the place, a young man, ardent in his feelings, and bent 
upon being faithful to the souls committed to his charge, 
called upon Mr. Lindsley. He was acquainted with the 
history of the man, and knowing that he stood upon the 
borders of eternity, he thought it his duty to warn him of 
the awful plunge he was about to make. With a firm and 
fearless voice he told him, " That dying in his present state 
he would sink into everlasting ruin — that nothing but the 
blood of Christ could wash away the ten thousand stains 
of guilt with which he was defiled — that he must repent- 
that he must have faith in Christ— that his heart must be 
changed, else there was not the slightest hope for him— 
that he had no time to spare— that he ought to pray every 
instant until death stopt his breath — and that with his per 
mission he would now appeal to the throne of grace in his 
behalf." 



3'iO GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The enmity of the natural heart. Delusive expedient. 



All this w:v kindly intended. It evinced faithfulness on 
the part of the :n;m of God. But at the same time, there 
was, perhaps, a want of prudence in the manner in which 
this conversation was introduced. It stirred up the fierce 
pissions, and exasperated the maddened feelings, of this 
dying profligate. His " face gathered blackness," and 
there was visible upon every feature wrath, and bitterness, 
and scorn. Stubborn and unsubdued, he spurned all his 
entreaties and counsel, and bade him " not to presume to 
be his mouth-piece to the Almighty." 

A few days after this interview, this wretched man be- 
came, for the first time, impressed with the full conviction 
that he should never recover. The thought of death, judg- 
ment, and the solemn realities of the Bible, filled his soul 
with consternation and dread. Like a drowning man, he 
now stretched out his hands — eager to grasp at any thing 
that afforded the slightest hope of keeping him from sink- 
ing into the dreadful gulf that gaped beneath. He remem- 
bered that the Rev. Mr. Z was officiating in a neigh- 
bouring village. On a former occasion, when in great 
affliction, this man had poured the balm of Christian con- 
solation into his wounded heart. It was he that officiated 
(he then being their pastor) at the funeral of Mr. Lindsley's 
son, whose death has been noticed in the former part of 
this narrative. 

For the character of this man Mr. Lindsley still retained 
a high respect. And now that life seemed waning, and the 
awful scenes of eternity were ready to burst upon him, he 
felt no disposition to wear longer the wretched mask of 
hypocrisy. He wished for a spiritual counsellor. A re- 
quest was accordingly sent to the Rev. Mr. Z , solicit- 
ing the favour of a visit. 

This man was truly venerable and apostolic in his ap- 
pearance. Age had added to a stout and well-proportioned 
form a dignity that comported admirably with his sacred 
office. The sweetness of his temper, and the amiability 
of his heart, exhibited themselves not only in the soft and 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 34 



The character of an aged minister. 



persuasive accents in which he spoke, but in the striking 
and uniform urbanity and gentleness of his manners. But 
with this great mildness, he united decision and energy of 
character. In all matters of indifference, the benevolence 
of his heart led him to be as yielding to the wishes of 
those around him as the flexile reed to the wind ; but 
where duty or principle was involved, he was as firm and 
immovable as the ocean rock that has remained for centu- 
ries unmoved, amid the fierce dashing of ten thousand 
waves. 

Such was the character of the man that, in obedience to 
the summons he had received, now approached the sick-bed 
of Mr. Lindsley. Kindness beamed upon his countenance 
as he entered the room, and the first expressions of sym- 
pathy he uttered for the sufferer before him, gave naturally 
a serious and religious turn to the conversation. He affec- 
tionately entreated the sick and dying man to "acquaint 
himself with God, and be at peace." He set before him, 
in a succinct and luminous manner, the way of salvation — 
" repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus 
Christ." 

To all this Mr. Lindsley seemed to listen, as *o some- 
thing that was to be said, as a matter of course. As Mr. 

Z paused, he rather abruptly, and in a tone that savoured 

very little of broken-hearted contrition, said, " Sir, I have 
sent for you to baptize me." 

" Nothing," replied the man of God, " can give me 
higher satisfaction, than to administer to you this holy rite, 
if you can exhibit evidence that you possess proper quali- 
fications for receiving it. It is not to be concealed," con- 
tinued Mr. Z , " for standing here as the minister 

and messenger of God, I dare not « speak smooth things or 
prophesy deceits' — it is not to be concealed, that you have 
lived in open and avowed disbelief of the Christian reli- 
gion — yau cannot receive baptism without declaring you? 
decided belief in the truth of this religion." 
29* 



342 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The inteiview. 



*' Thai I can honestly and sincerely do," said the sick 
man. 

kt No man liveth and sinneth not," continued the aged 
minister ; " and every returning sinner, before he can be 
admitted into the fold of Jesus, must confess, bewail, and 
renounce his sins — the best man living - has sins enough to 
mourn over — and must be finally saved, if saved at all, by 
free and unmerited grace. But, you, I say it in kindness, 
you have been no common sinner. There is a load of 
guilt on your soul, which, if its whole weight be felt, must 
press you down very low in the depths of sorrow." 

" I know it, I feel it," replied Mr. Lindsley, with more 
emotion thar, he had before exhibited ; " I have been a 
wicked, a veiy wicked man, but I repent me of my sins." 

k> V r ou are then willing to declare that you solemnly and 
for ever * renounce the devil and all his works,' — that you 
will hereafter turn from and detest sin, and whatever is 
sinful?" 

44 I am ready to do this," responded Mr. Lindsley. 

44 O, sir." continued the faithful minister, " it is a very 
solemn business to put ourselves in the attitude of covenant- 
ing with God. His piercing eye looks into the inmost 
recesses of Uie heart — he sees the hidden motive — he can- 
not be deceived — he will not be mocked ; allow me to read 
the interrogatories that will be addressed to you at the time 
of baptism." 

Here Mr. Z read, from the baptismal service, the 

questions that are put to the candidate immediately previous 
to his receiving that solemn ordinance, inquiring of the sick 
man, at the close of each question, if he could in sincerity 
subscribe to what was there demanded. 

To each of which he replied by the single monosyllable, 
''Yes." 

44 Mr. Lindsley," said this venerable negotiator between 
God and man, new energy lighting up his countenance as 
he spoke: " Mr. Lindsley, I wish you to be saved — and 
therefore I must deal faithfully with you. Have you 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 34S 

Probing questions. 

indeed considered what it is to receive baptism ? have you 
weighed the meaning of those questions ? have you thought 
how much is implied in renouncing ' the sinful desires of 
the flesh, so that you will not follow nor be led by them V 
Consider what a state of affections this implies. No mat- 
ter what may be your wishes, your desires, or your incli- 
nations — if they are not in strict accordance with the holy 
will of God, you bind yourself by the most solemn of 
vows to * renounce' them — -to give them up — to sacrifice 
them — though the effort cost you as much pain as the am- 
putation of an arm, or the plucking out of an eye. Are 
you ready to sacrifice self, and bow thus submissively to 
the will of God ? 

" Consider in whom you profess faith ! In Christ ! 
That Christ whom you have denied, abjured, a id blasphem- 
ed. In receiving baptism you declare, that abandoning 
every other hope, you look to him alone for salvation — you 
cast yourself upon his free mercy — fully sensible that unless 
he saves you by an act of infinite grace, you must perish — 
and that if you perish, you are determined to perish at the 
foot of the cross. 

" Consider also that you are to vow, that you will not 
only abandon your former courses, and habits, and sins — 
making a complete surrender of yourself to Christ, your 
King ; but that you ' will obediently keep God's holy will 
and commandments, and walk in the same all the days of 
your life.' What surrender could be more perfect than this ? 
What profession of religion could be more soiemn or un 
qualified ? 

" Now, sir, are you willing thus to give yourself up to 
God ? Allow me to specify. You cannot but be sensible, 
if you have any right views of your own past conduct — 
you cannot but be sensible that you have injured — cruelly 
injured your family. The only reparation that you can 
now make them, is a frank and humble acknowledgment 
of the ill-treatment they have received at your hands. 
Nothing can prevent your making this acknowledgment, 



344 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Superficial views of religion. 

unless it be a remaining' * sinful desire of the flesh.* That 
desire you must sacrifice, or never receive baptism from my 
hands." 

The religious feelings which at this time existed in the 
bosom of Mr. Lindsley had been awakened solely by the 
fear of death, and the dread of that punishment that follows 
death. While occupied by this one absorbing emotion, 
which grew more intense with every advancing step of 
terror's king, the proud and rebellious spirit of depraved 
nature lay in a state of dormancy — but it was not subdued. 
Agonized ..t the thought of dying in guilt, and dropping 
into endless perdition, Mr. Lindsley was anxious to perform 
some external act of religion, from which he might gather 
some gleam of hope : forgetting in this hour of mental 
agony, that external ordinances can be of no avail, without 
the heart is right in the sight of God. 

That which determined him to send for the Rev. Mr. 

Z , at this time, as his spiritual counsellor, was the 

uniform character this man sustained for dove-like gentle- 
ness and universal benevolence. With such a counsellor 
he hoped his path to the grave would be rendered smooth, 
«nd his passage to the eternal world easy ; and that he 
should be spared the painful business of laying bare to the 
severing knife the dark depravity and deep corruptions of 
the inner man. 

When, contrary to his expectation, his spiritual counsel- 
lor applied a searching caustic to every wound, and with a 
discriminating perception that seemed almost divine, touch- 
ed that string in his heart to which a thousand feelings of 
concealed but deep-rooted depravity vibrated — making, a 
reconciliation with his family — an acknowledgment to 
them of sorrow and contrition for the many evils they 
had suffered at his hands — the sole condition upon which 
he would administer baptism to him — Mr. Lindsley hastily 
replied, and the tones of his voice were those, not of an 
humble, dying penitent, but of a self-willed and unsubdued 
sinner. 






A FAM/LY IN ETERNITY. 345 



Relentings. Confession of an infidel. 



" That acknowledgment, sir, I can never make." 

" Then," said Mr. Z , with a solemn and emphatic 

tone, "I can never baptize you. And," continued he, 
" as I see no prospect of being of any further service to 
you, I will now take my leave." 

He accordingly arose and proceeded to take his departure. 
His hand was already upon the latch of the door, when the 
sick man, raising himself up in his bed, his countenance ex- 
hibiting ten thousand conflicting and soul-racking emotions, 
exclaimed, 

" O my God, must I then die unbaptized ! !" 

The kind-hearted minister, affected even to tears at this 
sudden burst of feeling, turned round and said, 

" Deluded man, baptism cannot wash the deep corruption 
— the crimson stains of guilt from your heart. Until youi 
feelings are changed, and your stubborn will subdued, there 
is no hope for you." 

" Hear me," said the sick man, gathering new strength 
from the intensity of internal and agonized feeling. " Hear 
me — if you desert me, then there is no hope ;" and as he 
spoke, torrents of scalding tears coursed down his haggard 
checks — " I wish to be baptized for several reasons— one 
is, that I may declare my belief in the Christian religion, 
which, although I have often abjured with my lips, I have 
never doubted in my heart. I am sensible that I am now 
near eternity, and that hell is yawning beneath the very 
place where I lie. I would be saved. My pride has been 
my ruin. That prevented me from giving up my heart, 
and from going forward to unite myself with the church of 
Christ, at a season when the Spirit of God wrestled power- 
fully with my soul. O, had I then accepted of the over- 
tures of mercy, chosen the Lord for my portion, and bound 
myself by a solemn and inviolable vow to the service of 
my Maker, what a tremendous wreck should I have avoid- 
ed ! My pride just now would not suffer me to make peace 
with the wife of my youth, and the child of my early love. 
Yes, I have cruelly injured them. They were all that is 



346 GATHERED FRAGMENTS, 

Proposed reconciliation. 



kind, gentle, holy, affectionate, and lovely ; and, amid all 
the bitter breathings and envenomed rancour of this wretch- 
ed heart, I have ever loved them, and love them still." 

Exhausted by this effort to unburden the conflicting 
emotions of his soul, Mr. Lindsley now sunk back upon 
his bed in silence. A milder and more subdued aspect sat 
upon his countenance, than had before been observed. 

Mr. Z then told him, that on his way to visit him, 

he had fallen in with Mrs. Lindsley and Mary Anna, and 
that they were now in the village, ready to fly to his em- 
brace. " Will you not" — continued he — " allow me to 
call upon them, and assure them that you truly deplore the 
misdemeanours of your life, and desire, before you depart 
hence, next to being reconciled to God, a perfect reconcilia- 
tion with them ?" 

To this Mr. Lindsley immediately consented, and in a 
few minutes the wife and daughter were at his bedside. 









A FAMILY IN ETERNITY 347 



The parted family reunited. 



CHAPTER VI. 

DARKNESS IN DEATH. 

" That day of wrath, that dreadful day 
When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
What power shall be the sinner's stay ] 
How shall he meet that dreadful day ? 
When shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When louder yet, and yet more dread 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! 
O, on that day, that wrathful day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clav 
Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay. 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away." 

Scott. 

The parted family were again beneath the same roof, and 
happy in each other's presence. All former unkindness 
was forgotten. The mother and daughter were now un- 
wearied in their attentions and efforts to contribute to the 
comfort of the sick and dying man. The object of their 
constant and most tender solicitude, was, that he might be 
prepared to enter upon that dread eternity which now 
stretched before him. 

Baptism had been administered to him — he having given 
evidences of contrition and repentance, that, in the view of 
his spiritual guide, justified this act. 

" Who" — said Mr. Lindsley, as he lay upon his bed 
one afternoon, now greatly debilitated, his countenance 
changed,and his features exhibiting evidences of a chastened 
and subdued spirit — no one at the time being in the room 
except Mary Anna, — 



348 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The deputation from the infidel club. Soliloquy. 



" Who was that, that just called?" 

" Richard H ," said Mary Anna. 

* Ah," said the father, " what could have brought Rich- 
ard here ? Men of his stamp do not usually like to visit 
those who are treading on the misty verge of eternity." 

" He said," replied Mary Anna, " that he should like to 
see you to drive away moping melancholy. But mamma 
told him, that it was your particular desire to be kept quiet, 
and not be permitted to be disturbed by visiters." 

" She did right in not admitting him, and yet I could 
almost wish that she had, that I might have told him of 
that deep and burning hell into which he and the club will 
sink ; of that dreadful cup of indignation that they will 
drink at the hand of God through all eternity. But no- — 
he would have laughed and made a joke of it, and I am too 
weak, and too unsettled in my own hopes to have over- 
come him by reasoning." 

Here he paused as though in a deep and painful revery. 

The infidel club, of which Mr. Lindsley had been an 
active member, hearing of his religious concern, and desire 
to receive baptism, sent at various times a deputation to 
dissuade him from what they termed " apostasy." 

He uniformly declined seeing them, remarking, " that 
he needed all his time to make preparation for the awful 
change that awaited him." 

It was one of that miserable gang that had just called, 
and to whom the foregoing conversation related. 

Mary Anna did not feel disposed to interrupt the train 
of her father's thoughts, and he therefore mused on for 
a while in silence. At length, as though unconscious of the 
presence of any other being, he thus gave utterance to the 
thoughts that were moving in his mind. 

" That was the guiltiest night of all ! Those recollec- 
tions, as though steeped in the burning waters below, how 
they scorch my wildered brain ! Ah ! what if in the fear- 
ful day of final reckoning my Judge shall call up the re- 
membrance, and place before me, in vivid perception, the 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 349 

Bitter recollections. The material sun. 

transactions of that night — that night when I stamped on 
the book of God, and reviled, and sneered at, and blas- 
phemed the name of Christ. O, what maddening thoughts 
come thick and crowding upon my memory !" 

Here Mary Anna, alarmed at the energetic and almost 
frantic manner of her father, moved her chair in turning 
to look upon him. The slight noise occasioned by this 
movement recalled to his recollection the presence of his 
daughter. 

In a calmer, but no less solemn manner, he continued, 
" O, my child, you know nothing of those dark portions 
of my existence. You have felt the blighting influence of 
the demon within me. In bitterness, and by a course of 
conduct cruel as the grave, I drove you and your mother 
from my dwelling ; but there are darker and more desolate 
passages in my history than this. And, if in the awful 
hour when I meet the Judge Eternal, he shall point to those 
scenes, I shall acknowledge the justice of that sentence 
which sweeps me into the fiery concave of endless wo." 

" O, my dear father," said Mary Anna, agitated with 
deep feeling, and anxious to turn his desponding eye to 
some beacon of hope — " there is a Saviour for sinners. 
Jesus Christ died for sinners. He tells us that he is « able 
to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him,' 
and ' that whosoever cometh unto him he will in nowise 
cast out.' " 

" Yes, my child," said he, " there is a Saviour, but I 
do not know that I have gone to him, or given myself up 
to him." 

He then asked her to draw the curtain of the window, 
and let in a little more light. She did so, and the rays of 
the setting sun streamed into the room in all their rich and 
golden lustre. 

" How glorious," said he, " is the material sun, but infi- 
nitely more glorious and resplendent is the Sun of right- 
eousness. O, that I could see Him thus shining upon my 
darkened soul! Sometimes I venture to cherish a little 



350 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Fearful forebodings. 

hope. I felt a satisfaction in receiving baptism. I wished 
to bear testimony of my firm belief in the religion of the 
cross. That cross now emits the only transient ray of 
hope that falls upon my darkened vision. I know not how 
it will be with me. I have sinned against light and know- 
ledge, against warnings the most solemn, and convictions 
the most deep — against love, and kindness, and mercy. I 
shall not be surprised, when I open my eyes in eternity, if 
I am in hell." 

These were the last remarks he ever made. The vio- 
lence of his disorder rapidly increased, and that very night 
he crossed the mystic line that separates time from eternity. 

In this melancholy narrative, we have striking proof, 
that they who resist the strivings of the Spirit, and neglect 
the divinely appointed means of grace, do verily reject the 
counsel of God against themselves, and ultimately provoke 
him " to swear in his wrath that they shall never enter 
into his rest." 

Will it be suggested, that perhaps the subject of this 
memoir found mercy at last? It may be he did. It was 
natural for his friends to hope that he did. 

But, reader, art thou willing to risk thy eternity upon 
such a perhaps ? Canst thou witness this exit of a fellow 
mortal, whose dying moments were clouded with uncertainty 
and doubt, bordering upon despair, and not shudder at the 
thought of closing thy earthly career amid such appalling 
darkness. Yet, if thou deferrest the work of thy salvation 
till to-morrow, what security hast th^u that thy end will 
not be like the end of this man ! 

It is the exalted privilege of those whose hopes are upon 
the rock Christ Jesus, to die with comfort — often with tri- 
umph ; and their death is not unfrequently made instru- 
mental in producing great and lasting good. 

This remark was strikingly illustrated in the death of 
Mrs. Lindsley, an account of which will be given in the 
next chipter. 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 351 

Decline and death of Mrs. Lindsley. 



CHAP. VII. 

THE CHRISTIAN'S SUPPORT IN DEATH. 

Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright : Jbr the end of that 
man is peace. 

From tie 37th Psalm. 

The scenes of sorrow and suffering through which Mrs. 
Lindsley had passed, had ruined her health and broken her 
heart. Consumption, which with her materim! family was 
an hereditary disease, was already gnawing upon her vitals 
Two months after Mr. Lindsley's death, she was laid low 
in the earth by his side. She was sensible for many weeks 
that her final hour would soon come. She often spoke of 
the arrival of that hour as of an event that would release 
her from a world of sin and sorrow, and translate her to the 
presence of her Saviour and God. 

She waited in patience her appointed time. And her 
last hours bore striking testimony to the power of divine 
grace, and were blessed, as there is every reason to believe, 
to the saving of a soul from death. 

Mr. Lindsley's abandonment of the club of which he 
had formerly been so prominent a membrt — his solemn 
renunciation of those skeptical views which he had once so 
assiduously propagated — his firm and avowed conviction 
of a future existence — his awful apprehensions of a ruined 
eternity — and his extreme anxiety to gather from the pages 
of the Bible, and the institutions of the gospel, hopes to 
support him in the trying hour of death, gave a fatal blow 
to that corrupt and guilty association. 

His death, and the circumstances connected with it, 
seemed to produce a deep and abiding impression upon th» 



352 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Early history of Richard H- 



mind of one of his former associates, Richard H 

whose name has been incidentally mentioned in this narra- 
tive. This man was better read, and more intellectually 
established in skepticism than any other individual in the 
atheistical club. 

His mother, who died when he was young, was an emi- 
nently pious woman. During her life, his religious edu- 
cation was with her a subject of deep and constant solici- 
tude. She soi.ght by every maternal art and endearment 
to win his young and tender heart to the love of Jesus 
Often and ?rd< "tly did she pour out her soul in supplica- 
tion to Go.! for her child. She asked for him neither 
wealth, nor honour, nor eminence ; but simply, grace 
And her dyi 14 words were, 

" AdorabU- Jesus, by all thy wounds, and agony, and 
blood, save, I entreat thee, save my child." 

Richard at this time was quite young, and, after the 
death of his mother, not having any pious friend to counsel 
or instruct him, his early impressions were apparently 
soon effaced. He became addicted to irregular courses, 
and seemed *fl have no fear of God before his eyes. As 
he grew up. however, he evinced strong native powers of 
mind, and |*ri£*«d through his collegiate course with great 
credit to hitu^lf. While in college he imbibed the absurd 
idea — an idea which has ruined many a youth of great 
promise — that superiority of intellect can be displayed 
only in leaving the beaten track, and originating new sys- 
tems and theovies. These same views influenced him even 
in religious matters ; and falling in with several French 
writers, he at once embraced their voluptuous and skeptical 
philosophy, and thus became in his religious sentiments a 
perfect free-thinker. 

Nothing ever occurred to arouse him from his di earns 
of infidelity, until the death of Mr. Lindsley. He had for 
many years been addicted to habits of intemperance, and, 
in his hwHMntirti with Mr. Lindsley, found himself united 
to a kindred spirit. The death of Mr. Lindsley, as we 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 353 



Calm and tranquil contemplation of death. 



remarked, seemed to startle him. He became evidently 
more thoughtful and temperate. He was frequently hearti 
to say with some concern, in the presence of religious 
people, 

" If the Bible be true, I wish to know it. If there is a 
hell, I certainly do not wish to go there." 

As Mrs. Lindsley's health declined, he frequently called 
to make inquiries after her. The afternoon on which she 
expired, he came to the house, and being informed that she 
was sinking rapidly, begged the privilege of seeing her. 
At this time Mrs. Lindsley was still able to converse, and 
all her words breathed forth the sweetness and amiability 
of the religion she professed. She expressed no over- 
weening confidence in relation to her acceptance with God, 
but at the same time it was manifest that her faith in the 
power and mercy of the Redeemer was firm and unshaken. 
Meek and resigned to his will, her whole appearance indi- 
cated the most perfect calmness and serenity. She at 
times spoke to those around her, and affectionately entreated 
them to prepare to meet their God. 

To one who expressed regret at finding her so low, she 
replied, 

" Ought you to regret that I am going home. As long 
as I remain here I must inhabit this body of suffering and 
sin. But when released from it, I hope through the infi- 
nite mercy of God in Christ, to be pure, and perfectly 
happy. Then may I not say, * for me to die is gain V " 

A short time after she remarked, 

" The Saviour says, ' I know my sheep.' This is a 
delightful thought to the soul that is about to be launched 
into the world of spirits. Amid that multitude — that ten 
thousand times ten thousand — yea, those countless mil- 
lions of souls that have gone and are going into the invisi- 
ble world, Christ sees and knows, and instantly recognised 
all those who belong to his flock, and will neither overlook 
nor forget one of them.' , 

Then turning to a friend who sat by her bed, she said, 
30* 



354 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The eloquence of Christian hope. 



" Will you take the Bible and open at the *0th chapter 
of St. John's gospel, and read the 28th and 29th verses ?" 

The request was immediately complied with, and he. 
friend read as follows : 

'* My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they 
follow me. And I give unto them eternal life ; and they 
shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out 
of my hand.'"' 

44 These are indeed comforting words" — she added after 
the passage had been read — "they are to my soul 'like the 
shadow of a great rock in a weary land.' * I give unto 
them eternal life, and they shall never perish' — precious 
promise !" 

Mr. H stood, and for a long time time gazed in si- 
lence upon this lovely woman, gently sinking down into 
44 the valley and shadow of death," and sustained at every 
step by the arm of the Omnipotent Jesus. She at length 
lifting up her eyes, said to him, 

" Mr. H — , I have often heard that you had a pious 

mother ; I hope soon to meet her in heaven. O, that I 
could be the bearer to her of the happy intelligence, that 
the child whom she so tenderly loved, and whose salvation 
she so earnestly supplicated in her dying hour, was tread- 
ing the narrow path to join her in the skies !" 

A thunderbolt from the throne of Omnipotence would 
not have more suddenly startled, or more powerfully agi- 
tated Mr. H , than did this remark. His whole ap- 
pearance bespoke uncommon emotion, and a torrent of tears 
immediately rushed down his stern and swarthy cheek. 
Perhaps no language can give to the reader a more accurate 
idea of the deep workings of his mind at that moment, than 
the account which he himself gave to an acquaintance some 
years after, when he had become to all appearance a sincere 
believer, and a truly reformed man. 

44 The dywig chamber of Mrs. Lindsley," said he, * 4 was 
the plnce where all the strong ramparts of infidelity within 
which my mind was intrenched, were suddenly over- 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 355 

The dying words of a Christian blessed to the convsrsion of an infidel. 

thrown, and where the light of God's truth broke in upon 
my soul in spite of all resistance. I had read many infidel 
authors, and considered my principles as unalterably fixed. 
I had also examined most of the works that had been writ- 
ten in defence of Christianity, and found nothing in them 
to shake my opinions. But what argument, and learning, 
and talent could not do, the exhibition of divine power 
could. As I stood looking upon Mrs. Lindsley, calm, col- 
lected, and unshaken in a situation in which the courage 
of many a warrior would have quailed, I asked myself — 

" ' What supports that frail and feeble woman ? Is it en- 
thusiasm ? No. A spirit as tranquil and passionless as 
hers must be a stranger to enthusiasm. Is it natural firm- 
ness of nerve ? No. She has it not. Through life, from 
the very delicacy of her physical structure, she has been 
as tremblingly alive to every rude touch as the sensitive 
plant. What power then is it that enables her to look so 
tranquilly upon all the horrors that cluster around the 
thought of dissolution and death ? // is the power — a 
voice seemed to whisper in my ear — it is the power of 
God. 1 

" It was at this moment that Mrs. Lindsley addressed 
me, and spoke of my mother. Her sainted image instantly 
rose before me. Her looks, her words of kindness, her 
prayers, and her pious instruction were all as fresh in my 
recollection as if she had died but the day before. And 
now every • refuge of lies,' in which I had long trusted, 
forsook me — I could not summon a single infidel argument 
to sustain me. I felt like a drowning man that is sinking 
to the bottom of the ocean. And from that hour I could 
never emancipate myself from the rooted conviction of the 
truth of the Bible. I view myself as « a brand plucked 
from the burning,' and through eternity I shall bless God, 
that in his infinite mercy he led me to the sick and dying 
chamber of Mrs. Lindsley." 

Mrs. Lindsley gradually sunk down into the sleep of 
death, the light of heaven continuing to beam upon her tc 



356 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Reflections of an orphan daughter. 



the very last gasp. The last words that she uttered, were 
those of prayer and praise. As life was rapidly waning, 
she faintly breathed these words, 

" Jesus, to thy dear faithful hand 
My naked soul I trust." 

Mary Anna stood by the bed holding her chilled and icy 
hand. Turning to her a look of affection, her eye spark' 
ling with hope, she added, 

" I find my child, that 

" Jesus can make a dying bed 
Feel soft as downy pillows are." 

With these words she breathed out her life. 

Mary Anna, who had already passed through many trials, 
was now left to struggle with new difficulties. They, who 
are surrounded by the delightful presence arid warm affec- 
tion of parents, can know but little of the sorrows of an 
orphan. Even where a mother survives, though in feeble 
and declining health, her counsel and soothing words give 
buoyancy to the spirits, and fill us with the delightful con- 
sciousness that there is one being whose affection cannot 
be alienated, and whose interest in us can suffer no diminu- 
tion. But when she is taken, and we stand unconnected 
f>y a single kindred tie to the rest of the world, the bereave- 
ment is indeed dreadful, and there cannot fail to be felt a 
sense of loneliness, which no language can describe. 

Thus it was with Mary Anna Lindsley. As she returned 
from the grave of her mother, she could not refrain from 
asking herself, 

" What is there now left in this world for me ? I have 
no friends — no means of subsistence — the last eye that 
looked kindly on me is now closed in death — there is no- 
thing on this earth for me to lean upon ! But blessed be 
the eternal Jehovah ' the Father of mercies, and God of 
all comfort,' who has promised that he will be a ' Father 
to the fatherless.' That promise I will now claim. I will 



A FAMILY IN ETERNITY. 357 



God the father of the fatherless. 



lean upon ms heavenly arm, and give up myself entirely 
to his guidance and direction." 

Happy are they, who by their afflictions are thus led to 
make a complete surrender of themselves into the hands of 
their Creator. That gracious and almighty Being never 
disappoints those who trust in him. He will most assured- 
ly make " all things work together for good to them that 
love him." 

Friends were quickly raised up to pour the soothing 
balm of consolation into the bosom of this vuung orphan. 
One who had long known and appreciated ber worth, and 
for whom she had the highest esteem, sought her hand. 

About a year had now elapsed since the death of her 
mother. Grief had begun to subside, and hop«: to poin: 
to a brighter day. She was soon to be married to a mar. 
whose principles and character both her heart ami judg- 
ment approved. 

They were sitting together, at the closo of a summer's 
Jay, under an arbour in a delightful gaKen. Universal 
lature was dressed in smiles. He was reading a beautifuj 
)oem on the joys of heaven. 

As he paused for a moment, Mary Anna inquired, 

" Do you think that friends will recogni-.c earh other in 
2fcernity ?" 

" Certainly," he replied — " though I might find it dim* 
cult to state definitely, upon what evidence that opinion is 
founded. St. Paul I think incidentally asserts this doc- 
trine. Addressing those whom he had been instrumental 
in turning to righteousness, he informs them that he cherish 
ed the delightful hope, that they would be his * crown of 
rejoicing' at the appearing of Christ in the day of judg- 
ment. This they could not be, unless recognised by him 
in that hour." 

" My mind," said Mary Anna, " while you have been 
reading, has been running over the scenes of my childhood, 
and the striking and awful events that have marked the 
history of my family. I fully believe that all those afflictive 



358 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Sudden death. 



dispensations were ordered in mercy— they were intended 
by a merciful Heaven to sanctify and save. Affliction is 
good for me. So deeply am I convinced of this, that I look 
with suspicion and fear upon every anticipated prospect of 
earthly happiness. Yes, sorrow is the better path for me 
while I remain in this sinful world ; and when I leave it, I 
trust, through the boundless mercy of a crucified Redeemer, 
to participate in the unending joys of heaven." 

These last words were uttered with such an unearthly 
accent, that her friend turned to look at her. An ashy 
paleness suddenly came over her countenance. It was the 
paleness of death ! A blood vessel had been suddenly rup- 
tured ; and in a few fleeting moments she was in eternity, 
furnishing another melancholy proof, that " in the midst 
of life we are in death." 

It was over the graves of this family that I stood and 
meditated long upon the instability and emptiness of earth, 
contrasting ite» perishing vanities with the enduring realities 
of heaven, which are the purchase of Christ, and will be 
ilie inheritance of his people. Reader, may divine grace 
make thee one of those people, and bring* both thee and the 
writer of these pages at last " unto the rity of the living 
God, the htHvenly Jerusalem," to join '*the general as- 
sembly and church of the first-born whi'H are written in 
heaven." 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH 



CHAPTER I. 

DISCOURSE BY THE WAY. 

" Hath not thy voice been here amongst us heard ! 
And that deep soul of gentleness and power, 
Have we not felt its breath in every word, 
Wont from thy lips, as Hermon's dew, to shower ! 
Yes ! in our hearts thy fervent thoughts have burn'd, 
Of heaven they were, and thither are return'd." 

Mrs. Hemajs. 

Several years since it was my privil^ce to travel a 
few days in company with a clerical friei<d, whose con- 
versation not only beguiled the way of its tediousness, but 
imparted much material for thought, and Uil impressions 
of scenes and incidents that time will probably never efface. 
We travelled in our oAvn private carriage, which was a one- 
horse vehicle, and designed to accommodate merely two 
persons. Thus we had no one to disturb or interrupt our 
conversation as we passed along the road, with the blue 
sky stretching over our heads, and the broad earth with all 
its variegated scenes spreading out before us. We moved 
on at a pace just rapid enough to produce that intellectual 
excitement which is favourable to conversation — that brisk 
circulation of ideas, which does not exhaust, but rather 
refreshes the mind, and awakens a succession of pleasur- 
able emotions. Every thing around us seemed to conspirf 

359 



360 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

A country scene in Autumn. 

to give interest to the scene. It was late in autumn, though 
the weather still continued fine, and the roads excellent. 
The day to which I particularly refer, we were passing 
through a very rough and rocky country. The lands that 
lay directly on the road seemed to be covered with a second 
growth of wood, which for many miles gave to our route 
the appearance of a journey through the wilderness. This 
young forest, however, was frequently broken by interven- 
ing spaces of cultivated land, where the proofs of a hard 
and rocky soil were brought out distinctly to view. 

The frost had changed the colour of the foliage, and im- 
parted to it every variety of hue. The leaves had just 
oegun to fall, and strew the ground with the relics of their 
faded glory. All nature seemed sedate and sober, and yet 
cheerful. The air was clear and invigorating, and yet 
bland and balmy. The sky was not darkened with a single 
cloud, and the sun was moving on with its wonted majesty, 
Douring over earth and heaven floods of glowing brilliancy. 
xt was one of autumn's finest, sweetest, loveliest days. 
My friend and fellow traveller felt the pervading influence 
of the surrounding scene, and I encouraged him to give 
utterance to the glowing thoughts and burning emotions 
that had been Undled up within. Some incidental circum- 
stance, by the power of association, brought to his recollec- 
tion the memory of one who seemed to have shared largely 
his affections, and whom he emphatically described as one 
whose recorp is on high. The sketch that follows, de- 
lineating some traits in his character, will be merely the 
rehearsal of the remarks of my friend. The reader, there- 
fore, must regard this clerical friend as speaking in his own 
person in all that follows, and the author as merely per- 
forming the part of an amanuensis. 



There is a melancholy, yet sweet and holy satisfaction 
arising from a visit to the grave of a dear friend. Often 
have 1 stole away from the habitations of the living, and 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 361 



The power of association. 



gone and sat down alone on the grave of my mother, and 
communed with that silent dust, that was once moulded into 
symmetry, a living, breathing form, animated with looks 
of kindness and love, and the dwelling place of an immor- 
tal mind. And as I have sat there, and thought of the dust 
that slept beneath those sods, how have all the scenes of 
the past come up before me ! No portrait of that dear 
countenance and loved form, however accurate, could have 
called up to my mind more numerous associations connected 
with childhood's sunny hour, than did that silent, grass- 
covered grave on which I sat. In my visits to that hallow- 
ed spot, over which bends the stooping top of a large 
weeping willow, often have I thought of those lines ot 
the affectionate Cowper, and repeated them there with my 
hand upon my heart, as I stood over that dear grave. 

In my heart " the record fair, 

That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, 

Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced 

A thousand other themes less deeply traced. 

Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, 

That thou might' st know me safe and warmly laid ; 

Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, 

The biscuit, or confectionary plum ; 

The fragrant waters on my cheek bestow'd, 

By thine own hand, till fresh they shone, and glow'd ; 

All this, and more endearing still than all, 

Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, 

Ne'er roughen'd by those cataracts and breaks, 

That humour interposed too often makes ; 

All this still legible in memory's page, 

And still to be so to my latest age." 

I have adverted to this fact, the power which the mere 
vicinity of the slumbering dust of those we love has to call 
up past recollections, to remark, that feelings not unlike 
these are awakened when we enter a dwelling, and sit 
down in a room, where we have often met a dear friend, 
now no more. How at such a moment does the recollec- 
31 



362 GATHEIIED FRAGMENTS. 

A lovely village, 

tion of all that passed there, come up in vivid pictures 
before the mind ! We seem to see again the eye that 
sparkled with intelligence — the countenance that was ra- 
diant with benevolence, and animated with glowing thought, 
and the whole assemblage of objects that then clustered 
around us, but have since passed away. We seem to hear 
again the tones of that voice, and the various thrilling notes 
of that conversation to which we once listened with so 
much profit aiul delight. Memory, aided by the power of 
sucli associations, enables us to live over the past — and to 
receive instruction from voices long since silent in the 
gTave. 

A few years since I passed through a sweet village, in 
reference to which I might have adopted the language of 
Goldsmith, and said, 

" Loveliest village of the plain, 

Where honlth and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain ; 
Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, 
And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd : 
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, 
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please. 
How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, 
Where humble happiness endeared each scene ! 
How otten have I paused on every charm." — 

At the time to which I refer, there was no spot in that 
village, that in my view possessed such a charm, as the 
rectory — the loved habitation in which he dwelt of whom 
I have said — his record is on high. I knew before I 
entered this dwelling that it was no longer inhabited by the 
family I had been accustomed to meet there. Still I de- 
sired to sit once more in that parlour — to walk once more 
across the iloor of that study — to look out once more from 
that window upon the silvery lake, and the village green. 
As I entered the house, every thing reminded me of the 
change that had taken place. Although the countenances 
pf those who met me were bright and cheerful, and ex- 
pressive of a kind and cordial reception, I felt sad ; for J 



ONE WHOSE RECOKD IS ON HIGH. 363 



Mutability of all earthly things. 



could not but remember the dead! When I sat down, 
and thought that the beloved pastor, from whose lips I had 
received heavenly instruction, and from whose conversa- 
tion I had derived the highest pleasure and improvement, 
was no longer the occupant of this dwelling, but was now 
numbered with the dead, I felt indeed, 

" 'Tis sad to see the wonted seat of friend 
Removed by death : and sad to visit scenes 
When old, where in the smiling morn of life 
Lived many who both knew and loved us much, 
And they all gone — dead, or dispersed abroad : 
And stranger faces seen among their hills." 

And now as I gazed around on the altered aspect of 

things, all the scenes that I had passed with Mr. H in 

the room where I sat rose fresh before me, nnd in spite of 
all my efforts to prevent it, the tear started from my eye, 
and I could not but say almost aloud — Thus do we all fade 
as a leaf, and the place that now knows i's, will scon know 
us no more for ever. 

Some of the conversations that I listened to in that room 
I will try to repeat to you, though I am sure they will 
fail to impart the impression that they made on the occa- 
sion which called them forth. You know that the moon 
conveys to us reflected light. How pale an', sickly a hue 
does its beams cast over the scenes of earth compared with 
the brilliancy of the sun. Still the moon conveys to us 
some idea of the appearance of light as it emanates from 
the resplendent orb of day. So my rehearsal of these con- 
versations, though it will reveal merely a glimpse of the 
glowing thoughts that were then expressed with such 
clearness and vigour, will nevertheless g\\e you some faint 
conception of the mind, and character, and piety of one 

WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 

Previous, however, to making an attempt to rehearse 
any one of those animated conversations, I will try to give 
you a cursory view of the history of Mr. H . Th# 



364 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Early years of Rev. Mr. H . 

most interesting points in his religious experience and mi- 
nisterial life will be brought to view in those conversations 
to which I have just referred. 

The Rev. Mr. H was born of pious parents ; though 

their views of divine truth were comparatively dark and 
obscure, from the influence of the same causes which threw 
a dense penumbra over his path during the early years of 
his ministerial labours. They were however sober and 
exemplary persons, and sought to bring the mind of their 

child under good and holy influences. Mr. H was 

quite a youth when he decided to devote himself to the 
work of the sacred ministry. He assumed the obligations, 
and entered upon the duties of that holy office with but 
little experience, and less knowledge of his own heart. 
Still he gave such evidence of large literary attainments, 
and well-disciplined intellect, that his friends were very 
sanguine in the expectation, that he would one day reach 
a high point of eminence in the church. But Christ, who 
seeth not as man seeth, would have said to him at this 
time, as he did to the young man in the gospel — one thing 
thou lackest. And with the vast and fearful responsibilities 
he had assumed, what was lacking was a defect of a most 
prodigious character. What that defect was will by and 
by appear. 

When I first became acquainted with the Rev. Mr. 

H , he had passed the meridian of life, but still possessed 

all his mental energies, and intellectual powers in full and 

undecayed vigor. In the pulpit Mr. H was eloquent 

and impressive, and had, to an uncommon extent, the 
power not only of holding his audiences in delighted ad- 
miration, but of piercing their hearts with the truth, and 
leaving impressions deep and durable upon the conscience. 
It was not a gaudy decoration thrown around his discourses 
upon which he relied for success, but the clear and pungent 
exhibition of solid, substantial gospel truth. He believed 
that alone was the wsapon which God would arm with 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 365 



High ministerial character. 






power, and make mighty for the pulling down of the strong 
holds of sin and Satan. 

In the private circle, his manners, alike removed from 
levity and austerity, partook of the suavity of the gentle- 
man, and of the bland and winning kindliness of the Chris 
tian. Gravity and cheerfulness appeared to be sweetly 
and happily blended in his character. He was never mo- 
rose, never frivolous — he was always serious, and always 
pleasant. 

Few men possessed a happier address, or were more 
highly gifted in conversational powers. He had the rare 
faculty of investing every subject of which he spoke with a 
charm. Though he possessed a highly cultivated taste 
that could relish, and a vivid imagination that loved to be 
regaled, amid the beauties of nature and of art — though be 
possessed no inconsiderable stock of general information, 
and his views upon almost every subject that came in his 
way had been expanded and enlarged by reading and reflec- 
tion — yet it was instantly observable to all who approached 
him, that the subject that most interested him was Christ 
and him crucified. No one could meet and be with him 
an hour, without seeing that that which was uppermost in 
his mind — which took the deepest hold of his regard — of 
which he never lost sight, and to which he made every 
thing else subordinate, was the glory of God — personal 
holiness — and the salvation of dying sinners. 

You will not be surprised after this statement, to learn 

that Mr. H was eminently successful in winning souls 

to Christ. He was indeed greatly blessed In his untiring 
labours, and made the honoured instrument of " turning 
many to righteousness." 

At the time I was looking forward to the sacred ministry, 
and felt desirous to avail myself of all the helps that came 
in my way to fit me for the proper discharge of the high 

and holy duties of that responsible office, Mr. H was 

my constant counsellor and adviser. Never did I deem*my 
time better employed, than when in the society of this de- 
31* 



366 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Interruption. 



voted servant of God. For very frequently when I was 

present, and I presume for my improvement, Mr. H 

would give such a turn to the conversation, as would in- 
volve the discussion of topics connected with the duties 
and responsibilities appertaining to the sacred office. The 
conversations which I shall attempt to rehearse to you 
related principally to those subjects. 

It was on one of those delightful occasions, that the 
question was incidentally asked, What kind of preaching 
will be most successful in saving souls ? 

The glow and animation which at that moment spread 
an almost unearthly radiance over the manly features of 
my honoured and now sainted friend, I can never forget. 
I have not the least expectation of conveying to you scarcely 
an idea of the fervour of feeling, or of the thrilling eloquence 
of manner with which the conversation was conducted on 

the part of Mr. H ; but the thoughts which were then 

expressed will not pass from my mind, while memory 
holds her seat in the soul. 



While my travelling companion was thus preparing the 
way for me to listen to what had so much delighted him, 
we rather unexpectedly came up to a turnpike gate, where 
we were detained some little time, which to me appeared 
very long, as I feared that that state of feeling to which he 
had been roiiimg himself would pass away, before our 
conversation could be again renewed. But in this I was 
mistaken ; for no sooner had the gate tender received the 
toll, and the horse by a free use of the whip been put in 
lively motion, than my friend, looking up to the clear blue 
sky, commenced his remarks with the poetic numbers, 
which stand at the head of the next chapter. 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH 36? 



Conceptions of heavenly bliss. 






CHAPTER II. 

THE DOCTRINES OF GRACE. 

" See where he walks on yonder mount, that lifw 
Its summit high, on the right hand of bliss, 
Sublime in glory, talking with his peers 
Of the incarnate Saviour's love. 

See how 

His face with heavenly ardour glows, and how 
His hand, enraptured, strikes the golden lyre !" 

I PoLLOK. 

We cannot but believe that those who while on earth 
most delighted to talk of the wonders of redeeming love, 
and of the preciousness of Christ, will lift up their voices 
the loudest among the heavenly host, in sounding forth the 
praises of the Lamb, through whose blood they were re- 
deemed unto God. And standing among that glorious 
happy throng, on the eternal mount, 

" where the river pure, 

Flows warbling down before the throne of God ; 
And. shading on each side, the tree of life 
Spreads its unfading bows ;" — 

\ often figure to myself this man of God, and behold 
him there clad in vestments of light, drinking in new 
draughts of holy love, and harping with his golden harp 
new harmonies, to the eternal praise of the blessed Saviour, 
who loved him and gave himself for him. 

There was a small company of friends present on the 
occasion to which I referred just before our interruption. 
Several of these were persons who perhaps needed special 
instruction in relation to the way of salvation through 



368 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Christ, and him crucified. 

Christ. For after all there is a vast deal of obscurity in 
the views of many Christians, and certainly of some Chris- 
tian ministers, on this subject. As I before remarked, the 
inquiry had been made, 

" What kind of preaching will be most successful in 
saving souls P" 

" The preaching of the cross" answered Mr. H , 

with an emphasis and tone that riveted every eye upon 
him, and with an intensity of feeling that seemed to spread 
over his fealures a more than usual glow. " The preach- 
ing of the cross. Every discourse that has not Christ, 
and him crucified, in it, as its groundwork and main pillar, 
will be as ineffectual in the matter of converting the soul 
to God, as the attempt to batter down a wall of adamant 
with a marsh rush. There is nothing but the cross that 
can break the stony heart of impenitence. All other mes- 
sages which you may carry, however solemn, impressive, 
or eloquent, wiU fall powerless upon the ears of sinners. 
In the gospel, Christ is the Alpha and Omega, the begin- 
ning and the end of every thing ; and if he does not oc- 
cupy the same prominent and essential place in the preach- 
ing of that gospel, that preaching will never become the 
power of God unto salvation to any soul. Christ must be 
exhibited in all his offices as Prophet, Priest, and King; 
as a Mediator between God and man ; as the alone merito- 
rious cause of our justification ; as the sinner's only hope, 
as the sinner's great surety — his righteousness, sanctifica- 
tion and redemption ; as the Being upon whom he depends 
for grace to do any thing that will be pleasing to God, and 
whose merits al me can render any of his actions acceptable 
to him. In sh»rt the saved sinner must be 'complete in 
Christ.' Col. ii. 10. Every duty should be enforced by 
motives di\:\vn from our union with Christ as our spiritual 
head, ' that Christ may be all and in all.' " 

Mr. II — — paused for a moment, but seeing us all appa- 
rently waiting with the expectation of hearing something 
further from him, he modestly remarked, that he did no/ 



ONE WHOSE RECORD ON HIGH. 368 

First field of labour. 

wish to engross the whole conversation, but if we would 
allow him to elucidate his ideas on this subject, he would 
give us a sketch of the difficulties and success he had ex- 
perienced in the matter of preaching, since he had entered 
upon his ministerial labours. 

" I made up my mind," continued he, " at a very early 
age, to devote myself to the ministry ; and when, after 
completing my preparatory studies, I was invested with the 
holy office of an ambassador of God, I was filled with a 
deep sense of the awful responsibility it had imposed upon 
me. My destination, after receiving orders, was just what 
I could have desired. I was stationed in a village of some 
magnitude, which was surrounded by a beautiful and highly 
romantic country. The congregation committed to my 
charge was not numerous, and owing to a variety of causes, 
had been labouring under considerable depression for a 
number of years. This, thought I, is exactly the field for 
me ; here is room enough for labour ; here I can task all 
the powers of my being in the most glorious of all causes — 
in building up the waste places of Zion. Here is an op- 
portunity of holding up to the view of the ignorant and the 
prejudiced, the principles and excellencies of our pure and 
apostolic chnrch, and of awakening to vigorous action the 
languid members of our own communion. And when fa- 
tigued with study, or wearied with exertion, I can ramble 
through these fields, or recline beneath the shade of yonder 
grove, and gaze upon the ten thousand charms and diversi- 
fied beauties that surround me; and while thus contemplating 
the works of the Creator, my mind will be refreshed and 
invigorated, and carried up with new feelings of adoration 
to the Maker of this goodly scene. Such were my reflec- 
tions, as I first approached the village of M , to enter 

upon the duties of my charge. 

" I believe I was acceptable to my parish. The congre- 
gation rapidly increased, and never failed to listen to my 
sermons with great attention, and apparently deep interest 
This was, of course, gratifying to the feelings of a young 



370 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Early mode of preaching. 



man, in whose heart there still lingered ioo much of earthly 
passion. 

" I was certainly very conscientious in my preacning 
though I had very imperfect views of what was incumbent 
upon me as a messenger of the Lord. He had said, Thou 
shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from 
me. I had listened more to human guides than to the 
voice of the divine oracles. Still I thought myself in the 
way of duty. I did not deviate from what I supposed to 
be the true course from any considerations of fear or favour. 

" 1 insisted much upon morality — I warned my people 
against excitement and enthusiasm, and endeavoured to 
give them right views of the Christian church, and of the 
sin of schism. I declared to them that a part of the coun- 
sel of God was the establishment of a church as the di- 
vinely appointed instrument by which sinners were to be 
awakened and brought into a covenant relation with God, 
and in which they were to be trained and fitted for their 
heavenly inheritance ; that the form of this church was 
defined by the same authority which gave it being, and 
that it could be shown by incontrovertible testimony, that 
that form was Episcopal. I laboured much upon all these 
points, though in fact there was no great need of it. Foi 
my congregation understood much better the arguments in 
favour of Episcopacy, than those by which the truth of 
Christianity was proved. They had far better conceptions 
of the beauty and order of our ministry, than of the beauty 
and excellency of Christ. And there was certainly no call 
for a homily against excitements, for the whole mass of the 
people seemed as cold as if they were locked in the icy 
embrace of death. 

" There was a still greater defect in my preaching, how- 
ever, than the want of adaptedness. I delivered to my 
people many important truths. Repentance, obedience, 
and holiness, w< ;e often recurring themes in my dis- 
courses. Death, judgment, eternity, the obedient saved— 
the disobedient punished with everlasting destruction from 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 37 

The powerless effect. 






the presence of the Lord. To these affecting truths I en- 
deavoured to give a prominency and conspicuous place in all 
my sermons, and they often seemed to spread great so- 
lemnity over the congregation, and leave them under deep 
seriousness. But, at the end of five years, I felt as though 
I had been labouring in vain. It is true, the external con- 
dition of the society in which I officiated was vastly im- 
proved ; and the most of those who frequented the courts 
of the sanctuary had become better instructed in the prin- 
ciples, and were more firmly attached to the forms, of the 
church. But where were the souls saved under my minis- 
trations ? Where were the seals to my ministry ? I looked 
for them in vain. I know not that there was a single in- 
stance of conversion in my flock during the whole period 
of five years. The thought gave me trouble, and the more 
I reflected upon it, the more I was distressed. During the 
same period, there had been added to the communion of 
another denomination in this village, more than two hun- 
dred members. 

" In a purer and more primitive church — as I believed 
my own church to be — a church instituted by Christ for 
the very purpose of * turning men from the power of Satan 
unto God,' I had done nothing. To what cause was this 
to be attributed ? I had strove to be faithful, and proclaim 
the truth with all boldness. But still I felt that the sin 
might be lying at my door. I turned over this thought in 
my mind, till at length it became agony to me, especially 
when I reflected that so many immortal souls, for whom 
the Saviour had shed his precious blood, committed to my 
care, were going to the judgment bar to receive the sen- 
tence of everlasting banishment from the presence of God. 

11 About this time, I accidentally fell in with a neigh- 
bouring minister of another denomination, and in the course 
of our interview the conversation turned upon the subject 
of Episcopacy. I had the arguments on that subject fresh 
in my mind. And I still think that in reference to this 
matter we stand on the high * vantage ground' of impregna- 



372 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Causes that retard and depress the Episcopal church. 

ble truth. My clerical friend however at length remarked, 
after the discussion had gone on a while, 

" ' I will admit that the argument is very much on your 
side. But, sir, the fact that you in the Episcopal church 
have no revivals of religion, and but very seldom instances 
of decided conversion, seems, to me, to be a striking testi 
mony of God against you. And if you do not want revi 
vals, and are not labouring to bring about conversions, the 
case looks to me still worse.' 

" I will not stop to tell you what I said in reply to this 
observation, but will simply remark that this conversation 
was not forgotten. The remark that this gentleman made 
went home to my heart like a sword. I felt that my defi- 
ciency and want of success had helped to fix upon his mind 
the erroneous impression that was there, and contributed 
to depreciate in the estimation of the world the evangelical 
character of the Episcopal church. And I was forcibly 
struck with the conviction, that if an angel from heaven 
should prove the divine origin of Episcopacy, it would have 
no effect upon the public mind, unless there could be gained 
for this church an unquestionable character for piety and 
evangelical religion. And here I would remark, that 
wherever this church does not maintain that character, the 
cause will be found in the unfaithfulness of those who bear 
the vessels of the sanctuary. Unenlightened, and worldly- 
minded ministers, dead and lukewarm members, while they 
have been loud in the praises of the church, have done 
more to depress it, and cast it in the shade, than all the 
efforts of its bitterest enemies. If they who minister at 
our altars would seek to be men full of the Holy Ghost 
and divine wisdom ; if, animated with the Spirit of Christ, 
they would but faithfully preach the truths which our li- 
turgy everywhere breathes forth — if they would but pro- 
claim the doctrines which are plainly stated in the thirty-nine 
articles, and most luminously unfolded in the homilies — 
in one word, if they would but make the testimony of the 
pulpit to accord with the testimony of the desk, then the> 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 373 



A grand deficiency discovered. 



would be consistent churchmen, and all the lovers of tht 
Bible would be forced to love the church. 

" Although at this time I did not know exactly wherein 
I had fallen short of duty, I was strongly impressed with 
the fearful apprehension, that my want of success was at- 
tributable to want of ministerial fidelity. I determined to 
spend a larger portion of time in reading the sacred Scrip- 
tures, and in prayer to God that he would enlighten me 
with his Spirit, and lead me in the way of truth. While 
acting in conformity with this determination, my attention 
was arrested by this passage in St. Paul's first epistle to the 
Corinthians — ' I determined not to know «/»«•// thing; among 
you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." I asked my- 
self, Has this been my determination ? A new train of 
thoughts was immediately started in my mind. The idea 
powerfully occurred to me — Was not here my deficiency ? 
I immediately commenced reading the epistles, with a par- 
ticular reference to this idea. I found a prominency given 
to * Christ crucified,'' that I had never before observed ; 
and to this marked peculiarity, I found an exact accordance 
in every prayer in the liturgy, and in the articles and homi- 
lies of the church. I felt that my views on the subject of 
salvation had always been clouded, and wondered that I 
had never before felt the force, nor understood the meaning 
of this and a thousand other similar declarations. ■ By 
grace are* ye saved through faith ; and that not of your- 
selves, it is the gift of God.' 

" I looked over my sermons, and found them deplorably 
deficient on this subject. I had often preached upon the 
subject of Christ, his example, sufTerir>/s, and death, but I 
never before viewed him as I now did. • all and in all.' 
Although as a speculative point in theology, had it beeu 
stated to me in definite terms, I should have rejected it ; 
yet the implication was spread through all my sermons, 
that we must obey as far as we could, and Christ would 
make up the deficiency ; or, in other words, we were to be 
saved partly by our own merit, and part!v by the merit of 

32 



374 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

An interview at a public inn. 

Christ. Notwithstanding one of our articles stands so di- 
rectly opposed to this opinion, and the Scriptures every- 
where denounced it, this was the broken staff which, for 
five years, 1 had been holding out for my people to lean 
upon. I now no longer wondered that this poor and muti- 
lated view of the gospel had not been blessed to the salva- 
tion of souls. I now « determined not to know any thing 
save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.'' I determined to 
preach the gospel in all its integrity and entireness. 

" An occurrence about this time, which appeared acci- 
dental, exerted an important influence upon me. I had 

occasion to visit S , a place about thirty miles from 

where I resided. Tn returning, I fell in with Rev. Mr. G , 

then a young clergyman in our church, who, though amia- 
ble, was exceedingly light and volatile in his manners, and 
crude in his theological views. It so happened that we 
were to dine together at a public inn at L . The inn- 
keeper, knowing that we were clergymen, gave us a retired 
sitting-room by ourselves. There was an old gentleman 
residing in this place, Mr. J , who had some acquaint- 
ance with young G . He was a man of more than 

ordinary intellect, and though principally self-taught, was 
in fact well educated. He was a member of the Methodist 
church, and a very zealous Christian. Possessing natu- 
rally an ardent temperament, and being altogether absorbed 
in religion, to the worldling he would probably have ap- 
peared like an enthusiast. But I do not think that he ap- 
peared so to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant — nor 
to the innumerable company of angels that stand on mount 
Zion — nor to the gei.eral assembly, and church of the first- 
born, which are written in heaven. Young G , having 

stepped out, and met Mr. J , brought him to our room, 

rather, L presume, for the purpose of having some amuse- 
ment with him, than for the expectation of being much 
edified by his conversation. Whatever were his motives 
it was a profitable interview. 

" ' Your village,' said Mr. G , * appears to be grow 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 375 



Views of a revival. 



ing finely. I see there are many new buildings put up, 
and the business seems to be increasing ; 1 expect you are 
all getting very rich here.' 

" ' We have reason to be grateful,' said the old gentle- 
man, with a smile of cheerfulness kindling up til his coun- 
tenance, and spreading over his features, — ' We have reason 
to be grateful for our temporal mercies. Truly in this 
matter the candle of the Lord hath shone upon us. Hut 
we have greater mercies to thank God for than these. He 
is now showering down upon us such a blessing that the 
place is scarcely able to contain it.' 

" ' Ah !' said G , ' and what is that?' 

" * The Lord,' replied the old man, with kindling anima- 
tion — ' has given us a glorious revival of religion here.' 

" ' Revival of religion !' said G , with a very satiri- 
cal tone. ' I did not know that you good Methodists ever 
got lukewarm and dead. I supposed that you were the last 
people in the world that wanted a revival !' 

w 4 We fall far short of what we should be,' said Mr. 

I in a tone that seemed to indicate flhat his feelings 

were hurt by young G 's satirical manner. * But I 

«\m sure that all Christians must wish for a revival, if they 
love immortal souls.' 

" * What do you mean by a revival ?' said G , * a stir ? 

a great excitement, when every one gets craz)-, and thinks 
he is religious till he gets his senses again, and then be- 
comes more wicked than ever? From such revivals, stirs, 
and excitements, good Lord deliver us. 1 

" The tear dropped from the old man's eye, and he said 
very solemnly, 

" * I am shocked to hear a minister of the gospel speak 
of such matters with so much lightness !' 

" « And what do you mean by a revival then V said 
G . 

" * What do I mean by a revival ? I mean that increased 
interest in religion which both Christians and the impeni- 
tent evince when the Spirit of God is poured out in an 



376 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Ex-raonlinary effusion of the Holy Spirit. 

especial manner upon any place. Dead sinners under the 
power of the Spirit are awakened and converted to God— . 
while careless and lukewarm Christians are quickened to 
increased zeal, and life, and spirituality.' 

'" ' This is all ver} plausible in theory,' said G , ' but 

1 think facts are entirely against the supposition that these 
stirs or revivals as you call them, are produced by divine 
influence. I believe they are got up by human contrivance, 
and have about as much of the divine Spirit connected with 
li.eir origin, as did the stir at Ephesus, when they all with 
one voice, about the space of two hours, cried out, Great 
is Diana of the Ephesians.' 

" * Again am I shocked !' said the old man. 

" ' Well, don't you believe,' responded G , ' that 

ihe Spirit of God is in all places, where there are moral and 
intelligent beings to be acted upon ? Has not the Holy Spirit 
been always poured out just as much here as it now is?' 

'• l The Spirit of God,' replied Mr. J , ' is unques- 
tionably operating more or less upon all minds in restrain- 
ing 1 them from sin, and exciting them to return to the path 
of holiness and life. I do not suppose that an excuse can 
be found for any sinner's remaining impenitent for a single 
moment, or for any believer's backsliding a single step, on 
the ground of God's withholding his grace. I suppose that 
ill men have p 'lcc enough to convert them, if they would 
be converted. But we know that this grace, in thousands 
of instances, does not convert men. And we know that 
in certain instances God does pour out his spirit more 
largely, and then sinners are converted. These are facts 
that we can't get away from. Means are often employed 
for years to bring sinners to Christ, without effect . and 
yet when the Spirit of God is poured out in an increased 
measure, those means immediately become effectual. Why 
lias not the truth that has been faithfully preached in this 
place for years taken effect till now ? What power is it 
that within a few weeks has brought to the house of God, 
the drunkard, the gambler, the profane swearer, and th6 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 377 



The Pentecostal blessinsr. 



Sabbath-breaker, who had not for years darkened the door 
of a Christian sanctuary till this revhal commenced. What 
has led them to resolve to abandon for ever their vicious 
courses ? What has led them to set up family prayer ? 
You have no right to say that these men will turn back. 
Thousands converted in revivals are among the most con- 
sistent and exemplary Christians in the land. I must ask 
you to tell me, what cause has produced these effects. 
What power is it that has roused from the deep slumbers 
of carnal security the moralist, who has been leaning all 
his lifetime upon his good works 1 What power has 
opened his eyes, and shown him that all his righteousness 
is as filthy rags ? There has been no new measures — 
no extra efforts. While we were criminal in our want of 
effort to promote the salvation of sinners, God has come 
among us and dispensed mercy like a Sovereign. And I 
might further ask : How, dear sir, do you account for the 
conversions that took place on the day of Pentecost ? 
AVhy was not every sermon that Peter preached followed 
with the results that his sermon was on that occasion ? 
What was that Pentecostal power which produced such 
astonishing results ? I refer not to the power that was im- 
parted to the apostles, but to that power that pervaded the 
minds of the people. There was no physical force exerted 
upon them. It was not the sound, nor the force of a 
mighty rushing wind that turned them ; but God speaking 
to their hearts, through the truth of the word preached, it 
was this that was like fire, and like the hammer to the 
rock. It was this that pricked them in their heart, and 
caused them to say to Peter, and to the rest of the apostles, 
Men and brethren, what shall we do ? Is it not most mani- 
fest from what we read in various parts of the Bible, and from 
what we see around us in the world, that God does, at certain 
times and places, pour out his Holy Spirit more largely 
than at others, and that for reasons to us inscrutable ?' 

" G had a better tact at, warding off an argument 

by the power of ridicule, than of answering it by sound 
32* 



378 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The keen rebuke. 



and logical reasoning. The manner of Mr. J had now 

become so solemn, that G shrunk from the use of his 

accustomed weapons, and replied in a tone of seriousness, 

" • 1 believe that the Spirit of God is given to every 
man to profit ivithal, and that it does not come in gusts 
like the fitful and inconstant wind, but is always present in 
the same measure.' 

" ' Did not Jesus Christ,' responded Mr. J , 'com- 
pare the Spirit's influence, by which sinners are born again, 
to the wind 1 The wind hloweth where it listeth, and 
thou hear est the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
cometh and whither it goeth : so is every one that is born 
of the Spirit.' 

" ' I understand by that passage,' said G , ' quite 

another thing. My idea in relation to the Spirit's influence 
is, that it is diffused like the presence of Jehovah through 
all space — that it is around us on every side, encompassing 
us like the atmosphere which we breathe.' 

" Never sijall I forget the appearance of Mr. J a* 

this moment. He was of middling stature, and rather stou* 
in his person. His hair was white, and his whole appear 
ance truly venerable. His countenance at this moment waf 
wrought up into an expression of tender compassion, and 
evident surprise, and holy horror. His bearing reminded 
me of what 1 should suppose might have been the appear- 
ance of some of the old prophets of Israel, when the mes- 
sage o«~ the Lord they bore was treated with contempt, and 
the zeai which they felt for the honour of God burnt like 
a consuming fire within their bones. Slowly turning his 
head, and fixing his keen eye upon G with a steadi- 
ness o. gaze that seemed to pierce him through and through, 
with a low emphatic tone he said, 

" ' I marvel that one who believes that the Holy Spirit 
of G<»d encompasses him every moment, like the atmo- 
sphere he breathes, should ever trifle — should ever fail to be 
serious and solemn ! I marvel that such an one should nof 
set a watch before his mouth, and keep the door of his 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH 370 



More positive divine influence in a given place at one time than another- 



lips. My dear sir, let me ask you plainly, do you not be- 
lieve that there is more positive divine influence in a given 
place at some times than at others V 

" * No,' said G- hastily and rather pettishly, for he 

had felt the rebuke he had just received. 

" Instantly Mr. J elevated his voice to a tone that 

seemed like thunder, and gave utterance, with a vehemence 
and impetuosity resembling the mountain torrent, to the 
emotions that were now roused within him, and were 
struggling to burst forth, — 

" ' A divinely commissioned minister of the Lord Jesus 
Christ — a man of prayer, and do not believe in the special 
influence of the Spirit — in any positive divine influence ir. 
one place more than another ! ! ! Why does the inspired 
page say — Seek ye the Lord while he may he found, call 
ye upon him while he is near? Don't believe that God 
puts forth a stronger divine influence at one time than an- 
other ! How does the sinner's heart become changed ? 
Let me tell you, you might just as well say that you did 
not know whether there were any Holy Ghost. (Acts 
xix. 2.) I should like to know how with your views you 
can use your own church service. How can you say to 
the people when about to bow down before the mercy-seat 
in the solemn act of prayer — " The Lord he with you?" 
What do you mean by that ? And what do the people 
mean when they respond — "'■And with thy spirit?" What 
do you mean in that solemn invocation that follows — "O 
God, make clean our hearts within us ?" Is it not the 
office of the Holy Spirit to cleanse and purify the heart ? 
And if you do not take solemn words upon a thoughtless 
tongue, do you not mean to ask God at that very moment, 
to exert a cleansing act of divine power upon the affections 
of the soul ? And if so, how does this harmonize with 
your theory ? And what interpretation will you put upon 
the response of the people that immediately follows — "And 
take not thy Holy Spirit from us ?" What do the people 
in saying this mean ? Do they not mean, that it is possible 



380 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The doctrine of special divine influence taught in the Prayer Book. 



that there may be less divine influence upon their soul than 
there now is. They who put up this petition understand- 
ingly and sincerely certainly must believe in a special 
divine influence. And is not this one of the doctrines of 
your church ? Why do you pray in these words, O Lord, 
raise up we pray thee thy power, and come among us ? 
And again, We humbly beseech thee, that as, by thy spe- 
cial grace, preventing {or going before) us, thou dost put 
into our mindf? good desires ; so by thy continual help, 
we may bring the same to good effect ? I have a Prayer 
Book which I often read, and it appears to me that your 
church acknowledges the doctrine of a special divine influ- 
ence to the full extent ; but I am afraid your ministers do 
not preach it.' 

" Mr. J having paused for a moment, and G 

not appearing disposed to reply, he thus proceeded : 

" ' My dear sir, I am an old man — I have had some ex- 
perience in life, and though you may regard me as an en- 
thusiastic Methodist, if you will but listen to me you may 
hear some things that will be useful to you. I have heard 
a great deal of preaching in my life, and have had the plea- 
sure of listening to some of the first preachers of the age- 
but never have I seen or heard of any good done where 
the Spirit of God was not relied upon, as that which alone 
could impress the truth on the heart. Let me tell you, if 
you wish to do any good in the world, you must look to 
God for the special influences of his Spirit every time you 
attempt to preach. And if you will not be offended with 
me, I will also add, that in my humble opinion, the neglect 
of looking directly to God for the special influences of his 
Holy Spirit in your labours, is the grand reason why you, 
church ministers, see so few conversions among your peo- 
ple. When you preach, you do not expect that the Spirit 
of God will come down and convert the people. Your eye 
is not lifted up to the Eternal Throne in faith for this bless- 
ing ; and the consequence is that, like Gideon's fleece, 
your congregations are all dry, while the dew of heaven 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH 381 

Dependence on the Holy Spirit in preaching. 

falls everywhere around you. I say not this from any 
bad or hostile feelings, but in grief. My ancestors were 
members of the church of England. I love that old church, 
as she was in the days of her spirituality, when her prayers 
and homilies were written. O, sir, what a prayer that is 
which precedes the ten commandments, in the communion 
service — Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, 
all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid ; 
cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of 
thy Holy Spirit ; that we may perfectly love thee, and 
worthily magnify thy holy name, through Christ our 
Lord. This is the kind of recognition of the work of the 
Spirit, which I very seldom hear from your preachers. If 
you will only follow the doctrines of your Prayer Book, 
and preach them, there would be a new state of things in 
your church.' 

" All this was spoken with a manner so earnest, and 
solemn, and impassioned, that it seemed like a message 

from the Lord to me. How it affected G I know not. 

But for myself, as I rode along on my way home, I could 
think of nothing else but this conversation. I was led to 
ask myself — ' Have I depended as I ought upon the Holy 
Spirit to affect the hearts of my hearers. I have often 
prayed that God would bless my sermons, but have I aske'J 
him to send down the Holy Spirit upon the hearts of my 
hearers, while I Avas proclaiming to them the message thai 
I bore from Him V And as I have proceeded in my ser- 
mon, have I preached as though I expected God would 
even then pour out his Holy Spirit upon those to whom I 
spoke ? While I thus interrogated myself, my conscience 
upbraided me, and I felt that I had been leaning too much 
upon an arm of flesh — too much upon a well-written ser- 
mon — and that even when I asked God to bless my labours 
I had dishonoured him, by failing to expect the blessing I 
had asked for. As I rode along I endeavoured to confess 
my sins to God in relation to this matter, and determined 
ever after, in all my efforts to save sinners, to look solely 



382 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The rehearsal interrupted. 



to the influences of the divine Spirit for success — yea, that 
the very next Sunday, as I stood by the valley of dry 
bones, and prophesied over them, I would say, with an 
earnest desire to understand and feel what I said, — Come 
from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these 
slain, that they may live." 



The rehearsal of my travelling companion was at this 
moment interrupted by our arrival at the place where we 
were to dine. He promised to continue the account of 

this conversation of Rev. Mr. H after we had again 

started on our way. The promise was redeemed. The 
sketch then given will be found in the next chapter. 






ONE WHOSE REORD *S ON HIGH. 383 

The adapte.nees of evangelical truth to convert the soul. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE EFFECT OF PREACHING CHRIST. 

What hath God wrought ! 

From the 23d of Numbers. 

The statement I gave you before dinner iri relation tc 

Mr. H 's own account of the manner in which his 

mind was disabused of certain erroneous impressions thar 
he was cherishing, which stood greatly in the way of hi* 
ministerial success, would be incomplete should I not pro- 
ceed to mention one or two other particulars which he re- 
lated. I cannot, however, refrain from remarking before T 
proceed to this rehearsal, that it is truly interesting and de- 
lightful to witness the power and efficacy of evangelical 
truth, when brought to bear directly and fully upon the hu- 
man mind. Evangelical truth is not only adapted to affect 
the heart, just as a well constructed instrument is adapted 
to answer the end for which it was made — but it is so truly 
" the sword of the Spirit," that whenever, and wherever, and 
by whomsoever it is preached, it becomes " the power of 
God unto salvation." This view of the gospel cannot fail 
to deepen and strengthen our conviction of the divine origin 
of the Christian religion. 

To see the simple, unembellished truths of the Bible, 
after learning, and eloquence, and powers of reasoning that 
seem allied to angelic intellect, have exerted and exhausted 
all their force in the effort « to convert a sinner from the 
error of his way,' and accomplished nothing — to see the 
simple, unembellished truths of the Bible, proclaimed per- 
haps by the humblest and most obscure herald of the cross 



iiS4 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The simplicity and power of the gospel. 



becoming, ' the power of God unto salvation,' awakening 
from the deep slumbers of spiritual death, and arousing to 
anxious solicitude about eternal things, those very minds 
which had remained uninfluenced and unmoved by all the 
gigantic powers of the most exalted human intellect, cloth- 
ing its conceptions in language the most beautiful, and ut- 
tering its glowing sentiments in tones the most thrilling; 
surely this cannot fail to convince us, most conclusively, 
that there is a moral power and divine reality in the truths 
of the gospel. We have often witnessed instances of this 
kind ; men of the most exalted talents, capable of present- 
ing their thoughts in the most captivating form, and, in their 
utterance, of imparting to them all the charms and power of 
melody, have often laboured and laboured in the attempt to 
1 convert the sinner from the error of his way? to no eflect. 
It was not because they had not talents and eloquence 
that they were unsuccessful, but because they were not 
wielding the right weapons, the plain, naked truths of the 
gospel. 

Every unconverted sinner, with all his acknowledg- 
ments^ being what he should not be, is clad with ideas 
of his own excellence and righteousness, which, like an 
impervious coat of mail, can be pierced by no weapon, but 
' the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.'' 1 It 
is the truths, the plain, unvarnished truths inscribed upon 
the pages of the New Testament, that become to the hearts 
of men » sharper than any two-edged sword, 1 and ' mighty 
to the pulling down of the strongholds' 1 of sin. As 3 
matter of taste as well as of conscience, it behooves the 
minister of Christ, in his exhibitions of divine truth, to 
adhere to the simplicity of the gospel. 

" I seek divine simplicity in him 
Who handles things divine ; and all besides, 
Though learn'd with labour, and though much admired 
By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform'd, 
To me is odious." 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH 385 



A rich and worldly-minded woman. 






But I do wrong in attempting to interest you with my 
own reflections, when I might strike into a much richer vein 
of thought, by going back to the rehearsal of that conversa- 
tion, some part of which I have already given you. 

" A lady of considerable wealth and influence," conti- 
nued my much respected friend, Mr.H , " was attached 

to the congregation. It often occurred to me, that if she 
was ardently pious, she had, in an eminent degree both the 
means and ability of being extensively useful. But nothing 
was more foreign to her than religious seriousness. She 
was the gayest among the gay, and excessively devoted 
to all the dissipations and fashionable amusements of the 
iay. 

" From the influence of education, she had formed an 
attachment to the Episcopal church, amounting almost to 
bigotry. She was always regular in her attendance upon 
public worship, uniform in her contributions to charitable 
purposes, and among the first to admire sermons that con- 
tained glowing and impassioned appeals to the heart, but 
yet an utter stranger to personal religion. 

" It has ever been my study, in composing sermons, to 
delineate traits of character, to portray habits of thought- 
lessness, and describe modes of evading the force of divine 
truth, from what I actually witnessed among my own peo- 
ple. Hence I never sit down to write a sermon without 
having some one, or a number of my people, particularly 
before my mind's eye. The spiritual condition of Mrs. 

V (that was the name of this lady) was the subject 

of frequent and fearless delineation. But all my efforts to 
excite in her mind religious sensibility were fruitless and 
unavailing. If at any time a momentary impression was 
produced, it was as transient as the early dew or morning 
cloud. At the end of five years, Mrs. V , though hav- 
ing attended upon my ministry during that period, was 
just the same vain, thoughtless, worldly-minded woman 
that she was before. 

" When I began to have a more deep and consistent 
33 



386 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The doctrines of the cross. 

view of the gospel scheme of salvation, I immediately al- 
tered my mode of preaching. It became my constant effort 
to exhibit in every sermon, and that in the plainest manner 
possible, these truths — that all mankind are under the curse 
of the law, and sentenced to eternal death — that there is no 
way of escape or deliverance but through Christ — that the 
grand requisition of the gospel, and that by which alone 
the soul can be brought into union with Christ, is faith — 
that this faith is the abandonment of all those props upon 
which we have hitherto leaned, and an exclusive reliance 
upon the crucified Son of God for justification and life- — 
that this faith embraces Christ as our all, our best portion 
and richest inheritance, cordially acknowledges him in ail 
his offices and characters, as our mediator, intercessor, and 
advocate, as our prophet, priest, and king ; and that the 
reception of this faith into our minds will be the starting 
point or commencement of a new and holy life, the begin- 
ning of a great moral change in our inner man, and will 
constitute a new era in the history of our existence — that 
they who are conscious of no such inward change wrought 
in their hearts by the power of the Holy Spirit, who are 
as ardently attached to the perishing things of time as they 
ever were, and yield as readily to the low, corrupt, and 
debasing inclinations of their fleshly nature as they ever 
did, and pass the bleeding Saviour by with the same apathy 
and indifference that they always have, are most indispu- 
tably in an unrenewed state, and over them hangs the 2urse 
of God's violated and insulted law, which ere long will 
sink them beneath its tremendous weight into the abyss of 
unending wo. 

" Though deeply impressed with these solemn truths, 
and sincerely solicitous to make a lodgement of them in 
the hearts of my hearers, the first sermon of this peculiar 
character that I preached seemed to be a total failure, and 
entirely without effect. Countenances that used to beam 
with intelligence and interest when I was addressing my 
people, now exhibited a vacant wandering look, or symp- 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 387 



Disappointment. God humbles us before he makes use of us for his glory. 

toms of uneasiness, as though the subject was dull and 
unedifying. 

" I must confess that I was exceedingly mortified, and 
humbled, and grieved at the result of this my first essay tc 
preach what I now conceived to be the peculiar doctrines 
of the gospel. I went home, and flung myself upon my 
knees, and with many tears poured out my soul in prayer 
to God; and I here found comfort. Depend upon it, it is 
no disadvantage to a minister to be thus disappointed — to 
be thus humbled and brought low at the foot of the cross. 
God often works in a way and manner unknown to us ; 
he may see fit to produce, through the instrumentality of 
his ministers, great good, no evidences of which are mani* 
fest to them. 

" In my private meditation and reading of the word of 
God, I became more and more confirmed in the belief, that 
the views I had recently embraced were scriptural and 
true ; and I resolved, as I was not preaching myself, but 
Christ, I would preach the truth, whether men would hear 
or forbear, whether it pleased or displeased them, leaving 
the result entirely to God. 

" For a number of weeks I continued to preach with a 
cloud upon my soul, in * great heaviness and continual 
sorroiv in my heart? because the truth did not startle 
the impenitent from their guilty sleep ; but my trust was 
in God, and I at length began to see the benefit of commit- 
ting the whole matter to his disposal. I was preaching a 
sermon over which had been shed many tears, and written 
with many prayers. The congregation appeared unusually 
solemn. I was considering the sentence that would be 
finally pronounced upon the mere moralist. I had placed 
him before the judgment bar, and was listening to hear 
what claim, what plea he would urge in the face of that 
Judge, whom, as a bleeding Redeemer, he had rejected 
upon earth. My eye at this moment happened to rest 

upon the countenance of Mrs. V ; the big tear stood 

upon her cheek, and the whole expression of her features 



388 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The veil of self-deception lorn off. 

bespoke the existence of deep inward emotion and fixed 
trouble of soul. The sight to me was like dew to the 
parched ground. I could not but weep. The thought 
that God in his infinite mercy had begun to touch the hearts 
of my people, filled me with indescribable emotions. To 
many, I believe this was truly a solemn day — a day long 
to be remembered. 

" Early on Monday morning I called upon Mrs. V . 

She met me with great cordiality, but with a sedateness 
and seriousness of expression unusual to her. On all 
former occasions, when the subject of personal religion was 
introduced, she ekher remained silent, or sought to give to 
the conversation another turn ; but now this seemed the 
only theme that could interest her. 

" She at length said, ' I wish you to tell me, sir, how I 
can be saved, for I feel that I am a lost sinner.' 

" I inquired if she had never felt that till now ? 

M ■ No,' she replied, ' I have always looked at myself 
through a false medium. The veil that concealed myself 
from my own view, has but recently been torn off.' 

" On a subsequent occasion, I desired her to favour me 
with a short sketch of her religious exercises, and the 
means by which she was first brought to a right apprehen- 
sion of her own character, and the way of salvation through 
Christ. 

" ' From the time,' said she, ' that I began to reflect 
upon a state of future existence, which was at an early pe 
riod, I determined to pursue such a course as would carry 
me to heaven. I thought I was pursuing that course 
Never did I dream that I had not a valid claim to salvation. 
I fully believed if I did not commit any heinous sin, if I 
was charitable in giving to the poor, amiable in my temper, 
courteous in my manners, and regular in my attendance 
upon public worship, I should discharge my duty in such 
a way that I should certainly be saved. The gayeties and 
amusements of the world I thought harmless and innocent, 
and might be participated in without injury or guilt. 






ONE WHOSE RECORD 16 ON HIGH. 389 

The means by which Mrs. V was enlightened. 

" * While I heard from the pulpit threatenings addressed 
to sinners, I supposed that the openly vicious were meant, 
and those threatenings therefore gave me no alarm. That 
I partook of the frailties common to my species, I was 
sensible ; that I was a sinner in this sense, I was conscious. 
But thinking it my misfortune, rather than my crime, I 
thrust from my mind all anxiety on this subject, with the 
idea that God would not be strict to mark what ivas done 
amiss. 

"'With these views I remained for years perfectly at 
ease, indulging the pleasing but delusive hope that all was 
safe. The first thing that startled me from the deep slum- 
bers in which I was reposing, was a sermon you preached 
upon the text, " For all have sinned, and come short of the 
glory of God." Some remarks in that discourse I shall 
never forget. You told us " that there was not an indivi- 
dual present, however upright, however amiable, however 
virtuous, that was not so sinful and guilty as to deserve 
God's everlasting wrath and damnation ; and if there was 
any one present that had any dependence upon his own 
goodness, and did not look as exclusively to Christ for 
salvation, as if he had never performed one good action, 
that individual would perish." 

"'These were new ideas to me; I could not credit 
them. I certainly thought myself better off, and more sure 
of heaven than the worst of sinners. As far as my good 
actions go, I am sure they will save me. Such was my 
conclusion. Still I was uneasy. I began to read the Bible 
more attentively ; I began to reckon up at the close of each 
day my good deeds, to see if I had not enough to balance 
those I knew to be wrong. The more I read, and the 
more I examined myself, the more uneasy I became ; I be- 
gan to doubt whether I did any good thing. Another ser- 
mon that you preached, placed before me my sins in such 
a light, that I gave up myself as lost, and was on the very 
borders of despair. O how beautiful, how transcendently 
glorious did Christ then appear, when revealed to me 
33* 



390 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The testimony of a plain Christian man. 



Then I was deeply and perfectly convinced that if he had 
been any other Saviour than an entire and altogether Sa- 
viour — that if I was not saved in the same way that the 
vilest sinner would be, I should infallibly perish.' 

" This is a brief sketch of the account she gave of the 
manner in which she was first aroused to a sense of 
her condition. This, thought I, is a lesson intended to 
teach me to do my duty, and not be discouraged, though I 
see no immediate results. The very sermon to which she 
referred her first serious impression was the one which 
gave me so much uneasiness, because it was heard with so 
little interest. I was now more fully determined to know 
nothing among my people, ' save Jesus Christ, and him 
crucified.' 

" Another occurrence about this time encouraged me to go 
on and strive to preach Christ faithfully. One of my parish- 
ioners with whom I had previously had but slight acquaint- 
ance, called one Monday evening to see me. I was a little 
surprised at it, for he had usually seemed disposed to keep 
out of my way. He was an Englishman, in moderate cir- 
cumstances, and advanced considerably beyond the meridian 
of life. He was a communicant in the church, and from 
all that I could learn, a very consistent and exemplary Chris- 
tian, though somewhat eccentric. On the present occasion 
he seemed unusually affable, and soon adverted to the ser- 
mons on the preceding Sunday. After expressing his sa- 
tisfaction in listening to the truth they contained, he said 
rather abruptly, — 

" ' Are you conscious that your style of preaching has 
changed within a few months V 

" ' In what respect V said I. 

" 'In every respect,' said he. 

" ' Ah — do you think so?' 

" * I know so ! — why, sir, you now begin to preach like 
a converted man — like one who has himself stood at the 
cross of Christ. In preaching there is nothing like expe- 
rience. When we have been there ourselves, we know 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 391 



Rev. Mr. Berridge. 



how to show others the way. I hope your future course 
will be like good old Mr. Berridge's ' 

" ' What was his course 1 

" ' Why, sir, he was a wonderful man. The Lord seem« 
ed to bless him so that, wherever he went, souls were 
immediately converted. When he entered the ministry 
it was very different. He began his labours at Stapleford, 
near Cambridge. He supposed that he was a converted 
man, for even when he was very young he had deep con- 
victions of sin. He was a serious and solemn preacher, 
and had great zeal, and persevered in his duties with faith- 
fulness. But no success seemed to attend his labours. 
After some six or seven years he was appointed vicar of 
Everton. He removed to that place ; but he did not seem 
to succeed any better there. And what was the reason ? 
He had no clear views of the gospel. He knew as yet 
experimentally very little about the way of salvation. He 
was a stranger to that evangelical faith which works by 
love and purifies the heart, and makes Christ all and in all. 
He had been all along preaching up the righteousness of 
the creature, instead of the merits and righteousness of 
Christ, for acceptance before God. After he had been at 
Everton a few years, it pleased the Lord to open his eyes, 
and show him his own condition as a sinner. He now saw 
that he had been like a blind man leading the blind. There 
was now revealed to him such a view of his own sinful- 
ness, and of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, that he was 
almost ready to despair of mercy. He cast away with 
loathing his own righteousness, and fell down at the foot of 
the cross as a guilty perishing sinner. God graciously 
looked upon him and bade him live. His eye was now 
fixed on the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the 
world. He went forth and began to preach Christ. What 
was the result ? Seals were immediately added to his min- 
istry. The young and the old came to inquire, what they 
must do to be saved. Several talented young men were 
numbered among these early converts, who entered the 



392 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



The effect of faithful preaching. 



ministry. One of them was the Rev. Mr. Hicks, who 
afterwards became his assistant, and whose labours God 
greatly blessed. Mr. Berridge,as soon as the light broke in 
fully upon his mind, felt it his duty to go about and preach 
Christ everywhere, where the people would hear him. 
He did not confine his labours to his own parish, but made 
frequent tours through the counties of Bedford, Cambridge, 
Essex, Hertford, and Huntingdon, exhorting men to flee 
from the wrath to come. The very first year after he com- 
menced these labours, making Christ and him crucified all 
his theme, he conversed with more than a thousand per- 
sons who had been brought under serious impressions 
through his ministry. And during one year of his minis- 
try, it was ascertained that not less than four thousand per- 
sons were awakened to a sense of their condition as ruined 
sinners, under his and Mr. Hicks's sermons. He went on 
in this track of usefulness for twenty years before he was 
called home. It was nearly at the end of his course, that 
he came into my native parish, and preached one evening. 
I had always attended the parish church. I had been bap- 
tized and confirmed, and had also taken the sacrament, and 
thought I was a good Christian. Though I was not openly 
immoral, I had no more idea of heartfelt religion than a 
heathen. Drawn out by curiosity to hear one preach, of 
whom so much was said, 1 heard words from the lips of 
Mr. Berridge that evening that I could not forget. He tore 
up all my old foundation. Though I resisted the convic- 
tions of my own mind a long time, I was obliged at last to 
flee to Christ as my only refuge. Then I saw every thing 
in a new light. Old things had passed away, and all things 
had become new. And now, sir, I hope your course, as I 
said, will be like that of good Mr. Berridge.' 

" This conversation confirmed my determination to preach 
Christ and him crucified. I could now plainly see why 
this old Englishman had not been drawn towards me. I 
thanked the Lord for this new testimony, that my preaching 
was more in accordance with the Bible, and resolved that 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 393 

The church. 



whether men would hear or forbear I would go on, and 
fearlessly proclaim the truth. The effect was soon mani- 
fest. In less than three months from this time I adminis- 
tered the Holy Supper to more than forty new communi- 
cants, who gave every evidence of genuine conversion. 
How lovely did the church of Christ then appear — an ark 
into which precious souls were gathered, over whom were 
spread the outstretched wings of covenanted mercy !" 

Another of those conversations this moment occurs to 
me, in which several important points were brought up to 
view. 



The conversation above adverted to, with the circum- 
stances accompanying its rehearsal, will be found in th« 
next chapter. 



394 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



A moonlight scene. 



CHAPTER IV. 

PROFITABLE DISCUSSION. 

Faithful are the wounds of a friend. 

From the 27th chapter of Proverbs, 

The conversation to which I alluded occurred under very 

peculiar circumstances. Mr. H , myself, and another 

clergyman had taken a ride to visit a spring of some noto* 
riety, that was strongly impregnated with sulphur. On 
our way our carriage broke down, and in getting it repaired 
we were detained till after nightfall. The evening, how- 
ever, was so beautiful, and the return ride so pleasant, that 
we could none of us regret the detention. It was just 
about as late in the season as it now is, and I do not know 
that I can give you a better idea of the scene and circum- 
stances, than by using the language of one whose poetic 
numbers I have often read with peculiar delight — 

" It was an eve of autumn's holiest mood, 
The corn-fields, bathed in Cynthia's silver light, 
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand ; 
And all the winds slept soundly. Nature seem'd, 
In silent contemplation, to adore 
Its Maker. Now and then, the aged leaf 
Fell from its fellows, rustling to the ground ; 
And, as it fell, bade man think on his end. 
On vale and lake, on wood and mountain high, 
With pensive wing outspread, sat heavenly thought, 
Conversing with itself. Vesper look'd forth, 
From out her western hermitage, and smiled ; 
And up the East, unclouded, rode the moon 
With all her stars, gazing on earth intense, 
As if she saw some wonder walking there : 
Such was the night, so lovely, still ; serene." 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 395 



The sacred ministry approached from improper motives. 

Our ride occupied all of two hours, which was princi- 
pally spent in delightful and animated conversation. Some 

remarks that had been dropped, led Mr. H to comment 

upon the character and deportment of theological students. 

" There is nothing," said he, " that distresses me so 
much as to see a young man coming forward in preparation 
for the ministry, with low and inadequate views of the 
awful responsibility which that sacred office imposes. 
But to see a young man whose mind is inflated with va- 
nity — who is disposed to be constantly involved in some 
romantic adventure of love — whose whole conduct is 
marked with levity — a mere flippant coxcomb — who ap- 
pears to be in his proper element only when in the midst of 
fashion and gayety, and has no relish for the society of the 
serious and the grave — to see such a young man stretching 
out his hands to bear the vessels of the sanctuary, is shock- 
ing beyond degree ! And yet young men of this very stamp 
do find their way into the ministry. 

" Some seem to view the sacred office merely as a 
post of honour, conferring distinction upon the man who 
holds it, and opening the way of agreeable access to the 
most respectable portion of community. Others seem to 
enter the ministry because they are fond of literary pursuits, 
and wish to enjoy a life of literary ease, released from all 
care in relation to the means of their subsistence. Others 
again seem honestly to desire to do all the good they can 
in the world, and though they have no clear views of the 
doctrines of the cross, or of the worth of the undying soul, 
aspire to the sacred office from a sort of undefined philan- 
thropic feeling. 

" When we think how many enter the ministry from these 
and similar views — and how many that put on the sacer- 
dotal robes deceive themselves, and have never been in 
truth ' moved by theHoly Ghost' to enter upon this high and 
sacred embassy, it is not at all wonderful that we see 
around us in so many instances such sad failure of minis- 
terial success. O that our young men would think ho* 



396 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Reasons why some ministers do not find fields of labour. 

awful a matter it is to stand before God and perjure them- 
selves in the very act of receiving their external commis- 
sion — that they would consider that without they are 'moved 
by the Holy Ghost to take upon them this office,' they can- 
not but be a blight and mildew, laying waste the fair heri- 
tage of the Lord wherever they are cast — that they would 
consider the confusion and shame that will cover them in 
the tremendous day of final reckoning, when they stand 
before God to be judged ! 

" The true and only reason why some ministers so long 
remain without a cure, is that they have never been moved 
by the Holy Ghost to take upon them the sacred office. 
Do you think that Paul, or Stephen, or Philip, or Peter, 
or John, would have set down for a year or two without a 
people to preach to ? The reason why some ministers do 
not obtain places, is that they have entered the ministry, 
not for the sole object of turning sinners from the pathway 
of perdition, but to get a comfortable and eligible situation. 
If a man is willing to spend and be spent for Christ, if he 
is willing to deny himself and be poor and despised, th? 
undying souls may be rescued from perdition and Goa 
glorified — he never will want a field of labour. And if 
he is not willing to do this, if he is not willing to be 
any thing or nothing, just as Christ shall see fit to 
fix his allotment, he certainly can never have been 
moved by the Holy Spirit to take upon him the sacred 
office. We know that there are all around us fields of moral 
destitution, where we have good reason to believe labour 
would not be bestowed in vain. But when these fields are 
pointed out to one of your non-officiating clergymen, he 
instantly objects because the salary is so small, or so un- 
certain. Rather than submit to this inconvenience, he 
prefers to remain idle. Did ever a man, upon whom 
1 necessity was laid' to preach the gospel, act thus ? 
where would the church have been— where would 
Christianity have been, if the first heralds of the cross had 
acted in this way ? Paul was willing to encounter stripes 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 397 



Christ the corner-stone. 



and imprisonment, hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, 
and death itself, to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ 
to a dying world. And why ? Because he was moved by 
the Holy Ghost to take upon him the office of an ambassa- 
dor for Christ. And I would ask, are there any who go 
forth in the spirit of Paul that have any trouble in finding 
fields of labour, or the means of subsistence ?" 

The clergyman who was in the carriage with us, here 
remarked, 

" But, Mr. H , there are some clergymen that obtain 

places, and seem to wish to preach all the doctrines of the 
Bible faithfully, that still see little or no fruits resulting 
from their labour — what do you ascribe this to?" 

"It becomes me to speak on this topic with great diffi- 
dence. But I will tell you one thing. I never did any 
good in the ministry till I began to preach Christ as all in 
all. My sermons now are only some miserable thoughts 
put together in a very imperfect way about the love of God, 
the sufficiency of Jesus, and the work of the Spirit. But 
even these God has blessed. The minister must preach 
but one doctrine, or rather all the doctrines he preaches 
must rise out of this one — Christ and him crucified. Je- 
sus Christ is the foundation, the corner-stone, the way, the 
truth, the life, the hope, the refuge, the bread of life, the 
consolation of Israel." 

" But," said the former interrogator, " the persons to 
whom I refer give great prominence and distinctness in 
their sermons, to the doctrine of salvation alone through 
Christ." 

" There is a glaring defect," responded Mr. H , 

** in the preaching of some ministers in relation to discrimi- 
nativeness. They preach in such a way that all their 
hearers, unless they are guilty of some very gross immo- 
rality, are led to think themselves very good Christians. 
The Bible every where speaks of men as converted or un> 
converted, penitent or impenitent, justified or condemned 
34 



398 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Discriminative preaching. 



There are undoubtedly these two classes in every audience. 
And if the preacher does not keep his hearers apprized of 
this, an:t make them feel that they belong to one or other of 
these classes, and put them upon the business of deciding 
where they stand — his preaching will be of no account. 
Sermons defective in this particular have often led the im« 
penitent to be soothed and self-satisfied with those scrip- 
tural promises and encouragements which belong only to 
those who have been truly born again. I cannot conceive 
of a more certain way to lull men to sleep, and spread over 
them a fatal delusion, than such a style of preaching as 
this. The line of demarcation between the people of God 
and those who are in an unconverted state, should always 
be drawn, and drawn with such breadth and distinctness, 
that every one will be constrained to see on which side he 
stands, and therefore to understand what part of the sermon 
belongs to him." 

This conversation was continued, and as it proceeded, 
the speakers seemed to gather fresh inspiration from the 
lovely night-scene around them. But I must hasten to tell 
you of a conversation in relation to parochial visiting. 

Often, after having spent a few hours with Mr. H , 

and witnessed the easy, natural, and delightful manner in 
which he engaged every individual about him in conversa- 
tion upon personal religion, I have asked myself, Why is 
it that Christian people, and Christian ministers, so seldom 
converse upon a subject so noble, so glorious, so infinitely 
interesting ? 

The conversation to which I just alluded, took its rise 
from the following occurrence. A small party were dining 

with Mr. H ; the whole company consisting only of 

two clergymen, two theological students, and three ladies— . 

unless we add the name of Henry H , Mr. H 's 

son, a bright-looking boy, about eight years old, who sat 
by the side of his mother. 

Upon our first sitting down to the table, there was thai 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 399 

The child's answer. How souls are won. 

easy and unconstrained manner in our host, that put to 
flight every thing like reserve or embarrassment, and insen* 
sibly drew us into conversation. 

The conversation was at first of a desultory character, 
but at length a subject was started that seemed to attract 
the attention of all, and one of the visiting clergymen, the 
Rev. Mr. Z , became highly animated in the discussion. 

The subject discussed was the character of some one of 
the ancients. His wisdom had been called into question. 

Mr. Z , in the ardour of feeling, inquired, ** If he was 

not a wise man, who is wise — yes, who is wise ?" 

The earnestness with which this inquiry was made oc- 
casioned a momentary silence through the whole company. 
Henry, seizing the opportunity, whispered to his mother, 
'* I can answer that question." 

" Hush !" said his mother. 

" Let him speak,'''' said one of the ladies, who overheard 
what he had whispered to his mother. 

" What remark have you to offer, my son V* said his 
father affectionately, who had taken very little part in the 
previous conversation. 

Henry's countenance brightened up with intelligence, 
and with a trembling voice he said, " I can answer Mr. 

Z *s question, for I was reading it this morning in the 

Bible." 

" Well, let us have the answer," replied his father. 

" He that winneth souls is wise." 

" A very good answer," replied his father, " and I hope 
you will hereafter understand and exemplify its meaning." 

This was the commencement of a very interesting and 
profitable conversation. The several means by which souls 
might be won were made the subject of copious remark. 

At length Mr. H observed, " That although none 

could hold in higher estimation the pulpit than he did, yet 
he was decidedly of the opinion, that more good could be 
done by religious conversation in the private circle — by thus 
* preaching from house to house 1 — than by public preach* 



400 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Parochial visiting. 

ing in the sanctuary." It was a testimony borne in refer 
ence to the apostles, that in every house they ceased not U 
teach and preach Jesus Christ. 

" But," said Mr. Z , " there are a number of serious 

objections to this plan." 

The Rev. Mr. Z , though an amiable, and, in many 

points, a truly estimable man, had not those deep views of 
religion, nor that conscientious concern about the faithful 

discharge of his duty, which characterized Mr. H . 

He was naturally of an easy disposition, and quickly de- 
terred from any course where he perceived difficulties were 
to be encountered. He had hitherto scarcely attempted a 
course of parochial visiting, and perhaps the remark of 

Mr. H , though unintended, came to him as a sort of 

reproof. 

" There are a number of serious objections to this plan," 
said he. 

" What are those objections ?" inquired Mr. H . 

" First," said Mr. Z ■ " it would be too great a tax 

upon our time." 

" Ah !" replied Mr. H , " have we not consecrated 

all our time to God ? and are we not therefore bound to 
spend it in such a way as will tend most to promote his 
glory and the salvation of our fellow men ? But really to 
attain this object, I do not think it necessary to infringe 
upon any portion of that time now appropriated to duties 
strictly professional. We may read and write, and preach 
and pray as much as we now do, and yet have abundant 
time to see all our people, and speak to them in private 
about their eternal salvation. Haw many hours, my dear 
brother, do we spend in receiving and paying mere worldly 
visits ! How many hours do we spend in pursuits totally 
unconnected with the objects of our ministry ! O, sir, if 
we carefully husbanded this time, and employed it, as the 
blessed Saviour did his life, * in going about doing good,' 
I think your objection would have no validity, and we 
should find, to our inexpressible delight, in the day when 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 401 



No insuperable obstacles in the way of a faithful performance of this duty. 

Christ gathers together his elect, many additional gems in 
our crown of rejoicing." 

" Even though we had abundant time," said Mr. Z , 

re-enforcing his objection, " there are many individuals 
and families in our congregations, to whom we could not 
speak directly, upon the subject of personal religion, with- 
out giving offence, or at least without losing a portion of 
our influence with them, and rendering our visits at their 
houses less acceptable." 

" Is there not in this argument," replied Mr. H 

with increasing animation, " is there not something of that 
'fear of man which bringeth a snare f* I take it as a 
given and indisputable principle, that when our duty is 
made plain to us, there is but one course for us to pursue— 
we must do our duty, let the consequences be what they 
may. When God says to the wicked, <-0 wicked man, 
thou shalt surely die," we must ' warn the wicked from 
his way? however much ofFence it may give, else ' his 
blood will be required at our hands.'' And of what value, 
my dear sir, is that influence with our parishioners, which 
we lose the moment that we attempt to bring them to 
Christ? I think, however, that this is a mistaken view of 
the subject. Faithful admonition in the private circle, 
when it comes from a heart full of love and kindness, will 
not give offence. It will elevate the man of God who thus 
discharges his duty, in the estimation of those very per- 
sons who perhaps feel pained by his admonition. He may 
not be hailed with as much welcome in the circles of gay- 
ety ; he may not be invited to those parties of pleasure 
where his presence would have been earnestly solicited, 
ha^ he been less faithful ; but in the hour of affliction, 
when sober reason is on the throne, and the judgment is 
allowed its legitimate reign, he, of all others, will be most 
earnestly sought. Yes, those very persons, who, while 
dancing the giddy and intoxicating rounds of pleasure, 
might have thought his godly admonitions impertinent and 
obtrusive, will, when stretched upon the bed of sickness, 
34* 



402 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

An illustration. 

desire him before all spiritual counsellors. I recollect an 
instance perfectly in point. Some years ago, I resided in 
L . There was a very gay young man there, of im- 
mense fortune, who was a sort of patron to the place. 
There were two clergymen in the neighbourhood. The one 
a plain but faithful man. His congregation consisted ot 
the lower and more ignorant class of people. He did his 
duty to all, and to this gay and wealthy young man he fre- 
quently spoke with all the plainness and faithfulness of the 
ancient prophets, though perhaps not always with the same 
prudence. The society of this faithful minister, of course, 
was not much sought: he was often spoken of as a sour, 
disagreeable Puritan. The other minister had more learn- 
ing and refinement, and a more fashionable congregation 
His society was much sought by this gay young man, and 
they at length became almost inseparable companions. 
This minister, though he often witnessed in his young 
friend immoralities plainly forbidden by the Bible, neve, 
presumed to reprove him ; he therefore retained his attach 
ment and esteem until he was suddenly seized with a sick 
ness which proved fatal. Being fully impressed with th*- 
conviction that he should never recover, he began to thin)' 
about meeting the Judge Eternal, and the agony of mind he 
now experienced no one can conceive. His friends proposed 
to send for the minister who had for so many years enjoyed 
his intimacy. ' No, no,' said the dying man, ' he can do 
me no good. He has feared to tell me my duty when in 
health, and I can have no confidence in his advice and 
instruction now. Send, send for that despised man of God, 
who has not been deterred, by fear or favour, from warning 
me through life, and apprizing me of my real character.' " 

" But," said Mr. Z , still starting objections, " we 

should often find it impossible to introduce religious con- 
versation, without the greatest abruptness and apparent 
incivility/' 

" If we are at all disinclined to our duty," responded Mr 
H , " nothing is easier than to discover, or imaginr 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 403 



Duty belongs to us— consequences must be left with God. 

innumerable difficulties m our path. And on the other 
hand, if we are fully bent upon the discharge of our duty, 
nothing is more certain than that Divine Providence will 
devise means for the removal of every obstacle. On those 
trying occasions, when obedience to divine command in- 
volves us in apparent peril, we have only to keep on in the 
straightforward path, and look continually to God for sup- 
port and success. Thus when the Israelites were brought 
into such straits at the Red Sea — hedged in, on either side, 
by impassable mountains — cut off from a retreat by the 
advancing and irresistible war-chariots of Egypt — and hav- 
ing before them the waters of the great deep — the Israelites, 
when brought into these straits, had really no reason to 
fear : for they had come there in obedience to the command 
of God. He had marked out their path, and fixed their 
stations ; and he was able, and knew how, to deliver them. 
His command on this occasion was — Speak unto the peo- 
ple, that they go forward. What ! into the overwhelming 
waters of the sea ? How many objections might have been 
started, how many arguments urged, to show the impossi- 
bility of obedience in this instance ! Still the command was 
explicit and peremptory. Was there any thing unjust in 
it? Did God require them to divide the sea, or plunge 
into its overwhelming waters ? No. This was his busi- 
ness. All they had to do was, to believe and obey — to 
trust in Him, and go forward. And just so it is with us, 
in reference to our duty. Whatever difficulties or discou- 
ragements lie in our path, we must go forward — it is God 
that commands ; and if we have confidence in him, if we 
have faith in the all-controlling power of his Providence, 
we shall not fear ' though the earth be removed, and 
though the mountains be carried into the midst of the 
sea. 1 

" Had we sufficient confidence, my dear sir, in the cause 
we have espoused, and solemnly undertaken to advocate- 
were we sufficiently impressed with the priceless worth of 
immortal souls — those difficulties which you imagine, ] 



404 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

The ambassador. 

think, would vanish, like the mountain mist before the 
risen sun. 

" You call upon a family, and have just been made ac- 
quainted with a piece of intelligence in which their highest 
temporal interest is involved. Now, if the turn which the 
conversation takes does not furnish you with a fit opportu- 
nity to introduce this subject, you will not on this at. count 
be deterred from making the communication : you would 
act upon the principle, that the importance of the intelli- 
gence, and the interest it would excite, would furnish abun- 
dant apology for any abruptness in the manner of its 
introduction. And shall we not, my brother, feel equal 
confidence in the message we have to communicate ? 

" Again. He who is sent to a foreign court upon an im- 
portant embassy does not rest satisfied, or deem his duty 
discharged, if, when admitted into the presence of those 
with whom he has to negotiate, he finds no opportunity 
of speaking upon the great object of his mission. No. 
He goes again and again, and seeks another and another oc- 
casion, until the matter is brought up, and he has obtained 
a definite, decisive, and final answer, from those with 
whom he was sent to negotiate. 

" Now, if the ambassadors of Christ, in their round of 
parochial visiting, had before them an object as definite, 
and were as persevering, and as fully bent upon attaining 
that object, I think they would find no lack of opportunity 
to speak to men about their immortal interests." 

" Bwt do you indeed find no difficulty in introducing re- 
ligious conversation in the families you visit ?" inquired 
Mr. Z . 

" As you have appealed so directly to my personal expe- 
rience, you will not ascribe it to the promptings of vanity 
or egotism, if I give you some account of myself in rela- 
tion to this matter. 

" The first years of my ministry were years of much 
ignorance and error ; along with clouded and obscure views 
of the plan of salvation, I had no adequate idea of the 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 405 

Testimony of a ruii:ecl people i.gainst their pastor. 



awful responsibilities I had assumed in taking upon me the 
office of an ambassador of Christ. After my eyes, through 
\livine grace, were opened to a clearer perception of the 
truth as it is in Jesus, I began to estimate more fully the 
extent of the responsibility resting upon me. In reading 
over the office for ' the ordering of priests ,' I became very 
deeply impressed with a sense of my own delinquencies. 
Many parts of the exhortation addressed to the candi- 
dates now appeared to me in an entirely new light. 

"It was indeed a sacred character, an awful lesponsibi- 
lity, that I had taken upon myself — ' a messenger, watch- 
man, and steward of the Lord? — appointed ' to teach and 
to premonish, to feed and provide for the Lord's family ; to 
seek for Christ's sheep that are dispersed abroad, and for 
his children who are in the midst of this naughty world, 
that they may be saved through Christ for ever.' 

" I was led to ask myself, Have I heeded the admonition 
— ' See that ye never cease your labour, your care and dili- 
gence, until ye have done all that lieth in you, according to 
your bounden duty, to bring all such as are, or shall be 
committed to your charge, unto that agreement in the faith 
and knowledge of God, and to that ripeness and perfectness 
of age in Christ — that there be no place left among you for 
error in religion, or for viciousness in life V This inquiry 
startled me. The thought flashed across my mind, that if 
God should at once call me and my flock to his bar, many 
would stand up in judgment, and say, ' O, if religion had 
ever been brought to our firesides and our homes — if our 
minister had ever spoken to us plainly and directly about our 
immortal interests in private, this curse would not have lit 
upon us — we might have entered yonder heaven, and es- 
caped that awful burning gulf into which we are now 
doomed to sink ! O had our minister been faithful, we 
should not have stood here this hour, covered with confu- 
sion ! It is true, he was kind ard amiable ; he told us oui 
duty in the sanctuary— but this wa-< so much a matter of 
course, it made but a momenta'*' impression upon oui 



406 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 



Preparation for parochial visiting. 



minds. He often mingled in the private circle, enlivening 
"t by his sociability and extensive fund of information ; but 
at such times he never spoke of Christ or salvation ; he 
never said, Si?', unless you repent and turn to God, you 
7vill be lost. Had I been called away that hour, I am con- 
fident many would have thus testified against me. But, 
through divine grace, I was spared. I resolved to pursue 
a new course — to commence a round of parochial visiting 
upon a new plan. I recollect well the first day that I at- 
tempted to carry this proposed plan into execution. I rose 
early, and spent several hours in meditation and prayer. 
I reflected deeply upon the inconceivable worth of an 
immortal soul — a soul which could be ransomed by nothing 
but the blood of the Son of God — a soul, whose agom r , 
whose torment, whose perdition, if lost, were beyond the 
power of calculation. All the souls of this parish, thought 
I, are committed to my charge. I can never have done 
' all that lieth in me' to save them, until I warn them 
personally, and in private. If I fail to do this they 
may be eternally lost. God has placed me a watch' 
man over them ; he has sent me a messenger to them ; 
if I am not faithful, their blood will be upon my soul. 

"I endeavoured to realize, that this might be the last 
tour of visiting that I should ever make through the parish, 
that as soon as I had completed this round of parochial 
calls, God might summon me to his presence, to give an 
account of my stewardship. I will endeavour, thought I, 
to do my work as if I was doing it for the last time. I 
will go into no house without the solemn impression upon 
my mind, I may never be permitted to speak to these peo- 
ple again about their souls : if I am not now faithful, under 
what circumstances shall we meet at the judgment bar? 
And finally, I made it a subject of devout and fervent 
prayer to Almighty God, that he would prepare the way, 
and enable me to discharge my duty with fidelity. The fami- 
lies I was about to visit were particularly remembered be- 
fore his throne, and their salvation most earnestly besought 



ONE WHOSE RECORD IS ON HIGH. 407 



Results attending a faithful performance of the duty. 

" To this practice I have ever since adhered, deeming 
previous preparation as essential to profitable visiting as to 
profitable preaching - ; and I have no doubt, if it were uni- 
versally adopted, a thousand of the difficulties now corn- 
plained of would vanish. I found it so in my case. I was 
astonished to find how easy it was to speak to my people 
about their salvation ; and still more astonished, to see with 
what interest and respect they listened to my words. They 
perceived I was in earnest to secure their salvation, and 
this drew still closer the ties of affection between us. 

" When I had once completed such a tour of visiting, 
the way was quite clear. They then expected, when I 
entered their dwelling, that I should not leave it without 
dropping a word for Christ; and they always evinced dis- 
appointment if I did. I fully believe that this is the most 
powerful means that can be employed to win souls to 
Christ. As far as my own experience is concerned, I can 
say most unqualifiedly, that this method of parochial visit- 
ing has been attended with the happiest results, both in 
reference to my people and to myself. 

" The advantages to my flock were manifold. Plain 
and direct conversations were, in several instances, the 
means of awakening careless and worldly-minded persons 
to deep and abiding seriousness. Some who had long 
been desirous of counsel in relation to eternal things 
were drawn out into an acknowledgment of their religious 
exercises, and thus the more speedily confirmed in a Chris- 
tian course. The views and spiritual wants of others, upon 
whom, at the time, no impression was apparently made, 
were ascertained ; and thus most valuable information was 
acquired — to ivit, the knowledge how to touch deep and se- 
cret chords that would vibrate to the inmost soul. All my 
people became much more attentive listeners, and much 
more easily affected by divine truth, in the house of God. 
They no longer supposed that the exhortations from the 
pulpit were addressed exclusively to others, but under- 
stood, from what had been said to them in private, thai 



408 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

Conclusion. 

they were individually, with me, objects of deep solicitude. 
To myself these strictly parochial visits were of incal- 
culable advantage. I was every day finding- new mate- 
rials for my sermons, and never at a loss what subjects to 
select. In the ardent piety of some of my flock, I always 
found much to incite me to seek new supplies of divine 
^race ; and in endeavouring to rouse others from their tor- 
por, I often found the animating subjects to which I recur- 
red, kindled a new fire in my own heart; and even when 
I failed altogether — when my counsel was repelled, (which 
did not frequently occur) — even this, inasmuch as it hum- 
bled me, and taught me that all the power comes from God, 
was of service to me. 

" But I have already engrossed the conversation too long. 
I have only one more remark to add on this subject, and 
that is, that I sincerely wish that every minister of our 
church would make it a rule from which he would never 
depart, to read the office for ' the. ordering of priests? as 
the first business, every Monday morning. I am sure that 
all would then feel constrained to pursue the course of pa- 
rochial visiting which I have adopted." 

I have thus given you some faint idea of the character 
of one whose full and complete record is on high. When 
we reach that blessed world, where he is now happy 
with God, and you behold that record spread out before the 
throne, you will be convinced that I have not coloured the 
picture that I have attempted to draw. 



Though I have very imperfectly set down the sketch 
with which my travelling companion entertained me, I 
hope that some ideas have been retained, that will suggest 
in the reader's mind profitable trains of reflection. 



THE END. 

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